


Familiar with Madness

by GrayQGregory



Category: Elder Scrolls, ゼロの使い魔 | Zero no Tsukaima | The Familiar of Zero
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood and Gore, Crossover, Magic, Mystery, No Knowledge Of Both Universes Required, Other, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 04:24:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 59,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11223255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrayQGregory/pseuds/GrayQGregory
Summary: The Champion of Cyrodiil ascends to the title of Sheogorath. His presence is sought by a mage named Louise de la Vallière. The Mad God deals with adversity, as this mage lives in a different world with different rules than he's accustomed to in his own world. The only trouble is that he isn't the only one brought to this new world. People, civilization, beasts, even gods





	1. Prologue Reconstruction of Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> Heya, I'm Gray Q. Gregory. 
> 
> I'm new to this site and I'm trying to figure a lot of things out. 
> 
> This series I'll be presenting is the second rendition of the idea, and I've poured tons of blood and sweat into creating it. 
> 
> The purpose of this fanfiction is to not only entertain you but to improve myself as a writer. So I must stress that I encourage harsh criticism as long as it's constructive. I want to improve and that won't happen if I'm being pompered and my series becomes my glass baby. 
> 
> I must give a special thanks to Jkysler and Surprisingly_Blank.  
> Jkysler is my amazing beta, and Surprisingly_Blank is my personal critic. 
> 
> Without them, this series would be flat and unreadable. 
> 
> Without further ado, may madness bless you.

Prologue Reconstruction of Insanity

When mankind was blessed with the spark of consciousness, the craving for power ensued. Millenniums have passed and a pursuit for godhood manifested, many have tried to achieve a godly status and many have failed. Only a select few have had the honor of ascending to godlike power, and one mortal in particular wields the strongest weapon known to all mortals.

Insanity.

This supreme being is known as Sheogorath, a god affiliated with motives unknown to all and his actions which were unpredictable to the gods themselves.

Today this all mighty god felt the need for a hand puppet show to improve his sour mood.

A red curtain split apart from one another, while attached to an opening on a cardboard box which had a large heading. 'My Tail', the title was misspelled and some of the letters were backwards.

Two sock puppets rose from behind the curtains, one white sock puppet had some white string to replicate hair and two yellow buttons to show its eyes. The other sock puppet was tan, it had no hair but it did have blue buttons to represent its eyes.

The white sock faced the tan sock, and it said, "How are you doing today, Baskill?"

The tan sock, Baskill, thought for a moment before saying, "I'm actually doing really-"

"I DON'T CARE! Baskill!" the white sock puppet interrupted.

"Yes, milord," Baskill replied mockingly.

The white sock turned away from his tan counterpart, facing the audience which hung at his every word.

"Today, is a special day," the white puppet lead on, "Because-"

"You are as well, milord. We don't actually exist?" Baskill continued.

"SHUT UP!" the white puppet yelled. "I'm sorry, are you the star of the show? I think not, you're just a puppet."

"You are as well, milord, we don't actually exist, we're just the spontaneous acts of your boredom," Baskill stated in a matter of fact tone.

"I think you're a little deaf, probably because you don't have ears, but let me repeat myself, SHUT UP!" the white puppet reasoned.

"I don't have ears, and neither do you," Baskill stated.

"Moving on! Before I was rudely interrupted. Today is a special day, because I, Sheogorath, single handedly, ended the Greymarch! Hold your applause, or...erm...claws," the puppeteer broke character upon an epiphany, that his sole audience was not exactly human.

"Anywho," the white sock puppet regained his character. "I de-Feet-ed the great and powerful, not to mention evil, JYGGALAG!"

Confetti bursted from both sides of the red curtain, and suddenly a third gray sock puppet was introduced from behind the curtains. The strange part was that there was only one puppeteer.

"Bah! I'm the Prince of Order, I'm boring in comparison to Sheogorath. I'm just asking to be slain with this stupid face of mine!" the gray sock declared.

"HER-HER-HER."

The puppeteer was reminded of his audience by a sarcastic guffaw and a glass ale bottle almost hitting the cardboard stage.

"HEY! No hecklers!" the white sock puppet addressed the heckler.

"Lesh get dis over wit it," the drunken spectator dismissed all the hard work that went into the act.

"Ahem. I slew the Prince of Order, a god, Jyggalag. Restoring madness to my realm, the Shivering Isles, preventing the imminent slaughter of the populace from the Legion of Order," the white sock stated with incredible gusto.

The white sock puppet held a small and thin knife in its mouth, then began to stab the gray puppet. What makes this demented is the fact that blood was soaking through the sock and the stabbing became more vicious. It went on until the smell of iron filled the air and the puppeteer began to throw obscenities at the sock.

"I enjoyed dragging your entrails out of your body!" Sheogorath screamed.

"You. Little. Pompous. Gray. Dull. Boring. Prince!" the puppets representing Sheogorath and the parody puppet of Haskill, his chamberlain, sunk down. Eventually, Sheogorath's two free hand began to strangle the previously gray sock, which was now crimson from his blood.

"Did thesh idjot jus' stab his foooot?"one of the few 'living' audience members shifted his attention to Haskill who glanced down at the strange audience. What caught his eyes was the fact that is was mainly composed of stuffed animals, porcelain dolls, and a few skulls. Not to mention, the most animate member of the audience was a drunken merchant crab.

Yes, a six legged crab, with another ale bottle clutched in his hand. Although what made him different is the fact that he had a cloth laid atop of his body, balancing a myriad of items, such as a pristine sword, a couple of old urns, a few bottles of vintage ale, a degraded staff, a cracked pot, a basket of potions, and a sack of soul gems.

Haskill glanced towards the now torn apart cardboard stand that acted as the stage for his master's sock puppets. Sheogorath was strangling the foot he had violently stabbed.

"Yes, mudcrab merchant, he did stab his foot," Haskill informed in a monotone voice.

Haskill brushed off his black regal attire, which covered his red clothes that sprouted like a flower in bloom around his neck.

The chamberlain's head was devoid of hair, and his face was devoid of emotions.

The drunken crab stared into space for a moment, before widening his small eyes.

"Oooooh, De-feet-ed, defeated, foot! Dis makes sense more..." the drunken crab jumbled his words while he made his revelation.

The mudcrab fell from the revelation, and grew a scowl on his face. "Booo! Yo' su'k!"

Another glass bottle was thrown towards the insane prince. Who was still strangling his foot with a face contorted with anger. Which quickly shifted when he heard the sound of glass shattering.

KLREESSHHHK

"Oh look what you've done. You littered in the throne room. Do you know what the charges are for littering in the palace?" the prince took off the gray sock from his foot, and stood up with abnormal grace.

"A frey drank ov ale?" the drunken mudcrab wobbled in response.

"No, a dinner," Sheogorath stated with a hungry smile.

"Wat kinda dinnar?" the drunk questioned.

"Crab legs," Sheogorath hinted.

"Hot-diggity-dang, sounds gooooood," the merchant hiccuped.

Haskill's expression indicated a need to go into further detail but the mad prince held up a halting hand. The following minutes passed in silence.

The mudcrab eventually fell over, presumably unconscious from either fear or alcohol poisoning. Most likely a mixture of both.

Sheogorath sighed in disappointment and lost interest in the drunk crab.

The prince then quickly lost his interest in his audience. He then faced the throne in the room and admired the architecture and design of this awe-inspiring domain.

A large black tree spouted behind the throne, it's roots stretched down the throne's steps. Pedestals lined down on each side of the throne. Pedestals on the throne's right were burning with an orange flame, while the ones on the throne's left burned with a green flame.

The carpet that led up to the throne was separated by two different colors that matched the pedestals on each side.

Both colors represented the domains that rule Sheogorath's domain. The orange represented the brighter part of madness, that expresses enthusiasm, desire, and obsession. It was called Mania. While the green color represented the darker part of madness, it expresses memory disorder, personality changes, and impaired reasoning. It was called Dementia.

This is the yin and yang of the Shiver Isles. One cannot live without the other, both support each other, while also destroying one another. It creates the sense of nonsense.

These two aspects make the whole of madness, while the aspects also represents Sheogorath's split personalities. Lighthearted cheerfulness and a hidden sinister undercurrent.

There is an easy way to describe the mad god. Sheogorath is comparable to a poisoned apple, in which an apple looks very appealing from the outside, but once someone eats the apple, they're in for a horrible experience in which they will never recover from.

As Sheogorath walked up to the throne, he could hear the trickle of water. He knew the cause of the trickle, which was the fountain of water behind the throne but before the black tree. There was also little trenches for the water to flow on both sides by the pedestals.

The fountain behind the throne was vastly important, as was the tree behind that. The Font of Madness was the indicator that he, Sheogorath, was ruler of the Shivering Isles. If it were to switch over to any other god, then his realm would be lost to him. Because the Font of Madness feeds the Tree of Madness, which roots insanity to the very ground that everyone in the Shivering Isles walk on.

Though it matters no more, Sheogorath won. He has won against his nemesis, the yin to his yang, the Prince of Order, Jyggalag. There was no more threats that were imposed on his realm, no more conflicts to be settled, nothing to grab the Prince of Madness' attention. That very fact was great, fantastic really, to everyone else. To Sheogorath, it was his worst nightmare, as there was no calamity to worry about, no chaos to keep him up at night, no treason for a good old fashioned execution. It really caused Sheogorath to experience a feeling he dreads most in the world.

Boredom.

"Ahaaa~" Sheogorath sighed.

"Is something wrong? Milord?" Haskill, the chamberlain, inquired with a dry tone.

"You know Haskill, the problem is peace," The Prince of Insanity admitted.

Sheogorath stroked his white beard in thought, while his golden eyes, with black slitted pupils, stared at Haskill. The Prince of Madness had unique clothes that fit his title. His clothes were red on one side while purple on the other, with a white undershirt.

"Do you know how long I've been here, Haskill?" the Prince of Madness queried with drained facial features.

"A over 200 years," his chamberlain answered with absolute certainty.

"Exactly! Do you know that every time I pass on the title of myself to a new me that I gain the memories of my predecessor?!" Sheogorath confessed the root of his problems.

"What wrong with that? Milord," Haskill humored his master.

"The problem is, that I recycle ideas that have been done before. Everything I do has been done before. Even that puppet show! I've done it four times, four times Haskill!" Sheogorath elaborated his repetitive cycle.

"I didn't think that you could repeat yourself?" the chamberlain voiced his concern.

"Do you know the definition of insanity? It's 'eating the same cheese, over and over, expecting a different type of cheese.'"

"I don't think that's the correct def-"

"I want to go on an adventure," the Prince of Madness interrupted.

"An...adventure?" the chamberlain couldn't help but pause.

"Yes, my bones need a good crushing, and my skills have grown rusty. I need to stretch my legs on the corpses of my enemies," the mad god confessed.

"Are you going to Nirn?" Haskill questioned.

"No. As much as I've enjoyed the mortal plane and those amusing mortals, I just can't bring myself to keep going back to that boring, dreadful, world. It has lost its charm and luster to me. I know everything unknown about Nirn. I want that feeling, that adrenaline, of exploring the mysteries of what the world has to offer," Sheogorath slowly came to the realization that his 'need' would never be fulfilled. There was no other place as interesting as Nirn, though he already experienced all of Nirn's wonders.

My … that existed somewhere in this vast universe, my divine, beautiful, wise … heed my call…

"Oh. Oh my," a smile began to spread across Sheogorath's face.

Sheogorath was no stranger to schizophrenia, he was a god of insanity, so it was a given that he would be blessed with that aspect of insanity. He would wake up to a chorus of voices inside his head, which would influence every decision he could think of. Though this voice, this voice had a feeling he knew all too well.

Change.

My name is Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière. Pentagon of the five elemental power, heed my summoning...

That voice made itself different from the chorus of madness. Though he had a mix of masculine and feminine voices inside of his head. This voice had power behind it. It was mortal, though it was a mortal with potential, vast potential, the potential to change.

I wish from the very bottom of my heart and add to my guidance and appear!

Out of nothingness, an oval portal manifested at the center of the room. It glowed a brilliant green which spread its color across the room. A presence weighed thick, like a miasma across the palace.

"What?...is that?" the chamberlain asked in genuine confusion.

"Do you feel that, do you feel that familiar presence?" the god questioned his underling.

"Yes, that dreadful feeling. I thought he was gone," Haskill frowned.

"Order," the word escaped Sheogorath's lips.

"You're not planning to enter that? Are you?" the chamberlain asked with a subtle worry. He already knew the answer, though he needed to ask.

"My favorite genocide is just a hop and a skip away. How could I not enter?" Sheogorath rose from his throne, walking down the steps to the unconscious crab.

"Come on, you," the mad prince picked up the mudcrab and continued to walk to the portal.

"I'm going on vacation. The job of a ruler is a hard one, which deserves an overdue break. So keep the fortress down for me will ya, and don't be raising riots in New Sheo while I'm gone you troublemaker!" Sheogorath exclaimed with lots of merry and joy in his proud smile.

Haskill would have attempted to talk Sheogorath out of some of his wishes, but he is the lord of this realm and if he wishes to take leave, it was his right to leave. So, Haskill said his farewells.

"Goodbye milord, please come back soon when you're finished with your vacation, and please don't be gone for too long like your last vacation," Haskill replied in a monotonous voice.

"Don't miss me too much, Has-" Sheogorath paused mid sentence.

"De ja vue. Have I done this before?" the mad prince felt a strange sense of familiarity. "Huh? Twice," he walked through the portal towards his new adventure.

And just like that, the god of madness left his realm to explore a new one.


	2. Chapter 1 Curse of Order

Chapter 1 Curse of Order

The comatose Champion of Cyrodiil lay in a medical facility with three parallel beds on both sides and four cabinets on the far right end.

From two of the cabinets wafted the powerful stench of reagents and crushed exotic herbs. The other two cabinets were used for paperwork. The papers were stacked haphazardly and contained information about exotic herbs that can't be found in Tristain.

The champion's clothes were folded on the nightstand next to the bed beside the remnants of his odd, beast-like sword.

Rays of light shined from a nearby window down onto the man who remained in a cruel slumber.

His naturally black hair was short and mussed with a few strands of hair resting on his forehead. Black steel shackles were locked around his wrists, their etched runes glowed with hues that burned like the core of an inferno. Similar runes were a faded tan color seared onto his left hand.

His body was battered and beaten beyond belief. Cuts, gashes, broken bones and appendages bent at a weird angle. A majority of his body was bandaged, the exception being the fist sized hole located where his heart used to be.

The fight he endured was so intense and dangerous that if the man were to open his eyes again, that in itself would be not only a miracle but a resurrection from a god. His heart is missing. It's already a miracle he isn't dead.

A girl with strawberry pink hair wearing a black cloak over her white blouse and gray pleated skirt sat in a wooden chair near the comatose man. This young woman has been visiting the man ever since the sudden accident. She comes regularly to check on the well being of her servant.

"Why…" she whispered to the comatosed man. "Why did you have to die?"

She wanted to believe the unconscious man beside her, her familiar, was dead.

A familiar is defined as beings summoned to serve a mage. Summoning a familiar can only be done during the Springtime Familiar Summoning, which is a sacred ceremony that is only performed in succession, once. If it were performed again while the previous familiar was summoned, it would be considered sacrilegious. There is an exception to this rule. If a familiar dies while in service to a mage, then the mage is allowed to perform the Springtime Familiar Summoning once more to summon a new familiar.

Now this is if a familiar dies. Louise had performed the ceremony for the umpteenth time and nothing would occur. Not even an explosion. This lead her and some teachers to believe that her familiar was still alive. It was the only logical explanation for her failure, even when you accounted her remarkable ineptitude to perform magic.

So Louise was led to believe that her familiar is still alive, despite his lethal wound and still chest. His body also wasn't cold. On the contrary, he was warm as a fireplace.

"Why do I always have to fail?" she vented sorrowfully. "Even when I think I succeed, it always leads to an inescapable failure." She shook her head in despair. "I'm truly befitting of my name...Louise the Zero…"

Her misery tainted the atmosphere, her melancholic attitude wearing down her confidence and stoic nature. The god Founder Brimir himself could feel her sorrow.

She was trapped in a situation that irked her to no end. She recounted what happened that day, summoning her familiar and sealing the contract, then...well, no one could remember what happened next. Everyone seemed to have an episode of memory loss. Then after that, the corpse of her familiar appeared before everyone's eyes. Her memory was a bit hazy about sealing the contract, almost like a repressed memory.

Confusion shifted to irritation, then that irritation to anger.

"WHY!" she slammed her hands on the bed, clenching the bed sheet.

Everytime she glanced at the hole in his chest, she couldn't help but feel immense pangs of guilt. She could have been the sole reason for his injury or it could have been something unrelated, either way she was responsible for her familiar's well being. Even if it were instantaneous, it didn't matter. She failed.

"I can't even summon a familiar right…" Her head tilted downward and her eyes became wet, full of the self-loathing that had hounded her since her failure. She began praying to her lord and savior, Founder Brimir, a being from the scourge race known as the elves.

"O' Founder Brimir, hear my prayer. My familiar has been caught in the twilight between life and death. Give me the guidance to recover my familiar from the darkness, and the light to ignite the fire in his heart anew once more."

Louise's hands clamped together, and her head was downcast. She waited for some kind of sign to help her, anything to show her what she could do to help. Throughout the week, she hasn't received a single sign, but that didn't make her faith falter. It only strengthened her determination.

To her surprise, she received a better sign than she could've hoped for.

Louise...I am Founder Brimir...Mark my words in your very being, young mage…

"F-f-founder B-brimir?!" Louise tilted her head skyward in surprise. Her disbelief was apparent on her face.

Yes, I am your god...The familiar before you is a special 'servant' of mine…

"HE'S YOUR FAMILIAR?!" Louise shouted in shock.

No need to shout, young mage. I can hear you just fine.

"S-sorry, Founder Brimir," Louise rooted herself back to her mannerisms and nobility.

Yes, he is my 'familiar'...He's a champion of men...A knight of the highest order...A mage with over 200 years of experience...A warrior among fighters...He is a man who ascended to godhood…

"What?! I thought you were the one and only true god, Founder Brimir."

This man of legend is from another world...His nation is absent in our own...His achievements are superior to my own...He is worthy of praise from the highest order...This man is our only hope of the threat that endangers all the lands…

This was a lot to take in. Not only was her god confessing to be secondary to a dead man in front of her, but this dead man was apparently the only hope against an imminent doom upon the lands.

"How can I help? O' Great Founder Brimir," Ignorant of the details pertaining to the threat or what sort of god her familiar was, Louise still made her willingness to help known to the heavens above.

Mark my words, young Louise...There is a special guest who occupies your bedroom...He will be the guide to help you resurrect your 'amazing' familiar...What you require is...A Heart of Order...A Soul Gem containing The Gray Prince...wool from a sheep on the prairie…A Scroll of Lightning Bolt...And A Blue Mountain Flower Potion...Do you understand?

"I'm afraid that I'm ignorant of the items you request, but I will retrieve them nonetheless. A Heart of Order, a Soul Gem containing The Gray Prince, wool from a sheep on the prairie, a Scroll of Lightning Bolt, and a Blue Mountain Flower Potion. I will leave at once. Thank you, Founder Brimir," Louise genuflected in respect, then quickly disembarked on her god given quest.

While Louise left the room, silence reclaimed the room. Only to be broken by the same voice as before.

Hahaha! Cold reading, works every time, except when it doesn't. Then would it be hot reading? Bah, hot reading would be BORING! Where's the fun in reading if it isn't cold? It would ruin the sport of cold reading in general, we can't have that now, can we?

The ominous voice resonated from the comatosed body of The Champion of Cyrodiil, sounding suspiciously similar to the mad god Sheogorath himself.

That mortal... So devote, so pure, so innocent, so ignorant. This was easier than convincing an armless amputee to juggle.

Poor, champion, you've done so much, yet have not received enough cheese for your efforts. Well, not much I can do until that zero comes back.

* * *

An old man sat at his paperwork stacked desk, absently/lazily smoking an elderly/old-fashioned pipe. Each puff from the lined mouth created a cloud as white and think as the beard it issued from. His lassitude was matched by his attire. A hooded black robe that looked to have never been ironed or starched in its long existence.

"Miss Longueville, this would have been one of the most peaceful and marvelous years we could've had, yet…" Headmaster Osmond's lined face frowned, trailing off.

The Headmaster's secretary was busy scribbling parchment with a quill while sitting on her desk. Her green hair was styled in a skyward pointing ponytail, keeping her long hair above shoulder level. Her clean blue robes were accompanied by a velvet purple cape, and her pristine glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose.

"Yet Louise de la Valliere summoned a corpse," Miss Longueville concluded, swishing her wooden wand in Sir Osmond's direction. A Spell of Levitation wrapped around the pipe, extinguishing it, and floating it into her waiting hand.

Sir Osmond stood up from his chair, and walked over to his secretary, stroking her bottom. "What I don't understand, is how did Miss Valliere summon a corpse, yet seal a contract with him. That should not be possible."

"It's certainly a paradox. A mage can neither summon nor create a contract with a deceased familiar, yet it still happened. And old man Osmond...if you don't stop molesting my buttock, I'm going to report your sexual harassment to the palace," Miss Longueville threatened.

Sir Osmond stumbled away, mumbling random and inane words that made no sense in the slightest.

"Stop acting like you're delusional every time you do something wrong," Miss Longueville chided, still focused on her paperwork.

"What truly perplexes me," the old man's attitude shifted quickly from perversion to profound seriousness "is The Royal Court's research agency has done extensive research on the morbid matter and found that summoning a dead familiar is impossible."

"So, the only logical conclusion is-"

"Is that Miss Valliere summoned a living human familiar, which died shortly after the contract was sealed. The problem is-" Sir Osmond was then interrupted by Miss Longueville.

"Is no one saw him die. All accounts from students and the single teacher overseeing the Springtime Familiar Summoning stated a loss of memory between his contract and his death."

"The answer to this complex issue evades us all," Miss Longueville continued, obvious distress from the lack of answers visible to the headmaster despite her industrious facade.

"Your mind will learn to answer most questions if you learn to relax and wait for the answer." Osmond snatched back his pipe and waved his staff above it, mumbling a quiet incantation.

Puffing his relit pipe, Headmaster Osmond slowly walking over to the window behind his sequoia desk. The central tower that Sir Osmond and Miss Longueville occupied, rose high above the five other silo-like towers. The silo-towers made a pentagon with walls connecting to one another, creating a barrier against the wilderness or worse, invading forces. Each of the five towers acted as a joint in the pentagon, the joints were all connected with stone walls, dividing its territory into courtyards.

No matter how much Sir Osmond stared at the architecture of his academy, it always shined with beauty and resonated with copious amounts of nostalgia.

Miss Longueville attempted to cast another Spell of Levitation at the pipe, but to her surprise and annoyance it failed.

Sir Osmond blew out a large cloud of smoke. "You're not going to take away one of the few pleasures this old man has left in his life."

"Taking care of you is one of my jobs. Smoking is bad," Miss Longueville reasoned. "How did you cancel my spell?"

They fell into silence, contemplating the school outside.

"I can feel an omen…" Sir Osmond confessed to Miss Longueville, his back facing her.

"I can feel it too," agreed Miss Longueville.

The moment was interrupted by a "Chuchu". A white mouse ran past Miss Longueville and up Osmond's black robes, making its way to the old man's hand.

"Montsognir, my most trusted friend," Osmond gently pet his familiar with a finger, fishing a few nuts out one of his wrinkled robes'numerous pockets to give to Montsognir.

"Chuchu!" squeaked the little mouse.

"So, what's today's color?" Osmond queried.

"Chuchu! ChuChu!" Montsognir squeaked.

"Hmm, green as grass? Such an odd, yet exotic color to wear today. Hrm. Miss Longueville should really stick with black. Don't you agree, my trusty Montsognir?"

Miss Longueville's eyebrows twitched violently, and she stood up with such force that her chair shrieked against the floor.

RREEEEEEEEEK

"Old Osmond. I'm not joking that I will report you to the palace!"

"I'm not afraid of the palace. If I was, I wouldn't be headmaster of this academy," Sir Osmond rebutted. Sir Osmond widened his eyes with new invigoration, his frame radiated with a passion only held by the young and spoke in a tone unbefitting of someone as old as him. "Kah! Don't get so squeamish every time a man takes a glance at your panties! Keep this up and you'll be single forever!"

Osmond took this passionate speech to a new level by stroking Miss Longueville's bottom once more.

Miss Longueville had enough at his moment and roundhouse kicked Osmond to the floor.

"Oww, Ack! Why?!" Osmond yelped.

The secretary stomped her foot on his back and head multiple times.

"How could you do this to your senior!?" Osmond questioned in agony.

No matter what he said, he unleashed the wrath of a woman, and no fury could compare to a woman's fury.

"I'M SORRY! I'LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN!" his plea for forgiveness echoed across the lands.

* * *

Louise didn't know what she was looking at.

The young mage Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière was at her destination; her bedroom. She was expecting something grander from a holy quest from her god, Founder Brimir himself.

Like having to climb a distant mountain in search of a monk who had dedicated his entire isolated life to talking to Founder Brimir on the peak of a mountain. Or possibly exploring an abandoned mine inhabited by some sort of talking dragon who encountered her lord and savior back 6,000 years ago. Or even walking to the forest just outside the academy to find an elemental spirit who owed Founder Brimir a favor, who would guide her to the reagents required to cast a resurrection spell.

Nope. None of that crap. Just her familiar bedroom.

Louise's room had a single window opposite the door at the far end of the room. Ever piece of furniture in the room, the bed, the round table with two chairs, wardrobe, and vanity set was expensive and looked as though it could be designed for nobility.

This was in sharp contrast to the promised guest in her room. A very special guest that acted as a messenger from god himself.

It was a crab.

Yes, a crab.

The young mage couldn't help be feel underwhelmed by the sight of a crab, acting as a messenger from god.

Louise observed the room and couldn't understand how there were so many empty bottles of ale littered across her room in such a short period of time. It had been pristine when she had left a few hours ago.

The crab appeared to be unconscious, its body was limp on the floor. It had a bundle of goods wrapped up into a fabric sack.

"Ummm," Louise didn't know what she found stranger. That there was a crab in her room or that it had severe alcoholic issues.

Louise approached the drunken crab, and with each step she took, the glass bottles clinked and clanked around one another.

Clink. Clak. Clink. Clak. Clink. Clak. Clink. Clak.

She squated down to the crab's level, then poked it gently. She didn't know what else to do.

"ERRRRAH!" the crab moaned with immense anguish. Its pincers flailed around the place, as it rolled its body.

"Uh, Mr. Crab?" she poked the crab a couple more time.

"What agre you doing in my room?" the crab mumbled.

"Actually, this is my room That you made a mess of," she said with a subtle tone of aggression.

"Tath's aa buynch ouf crab shit! thils iis my room!" the crab argued.

"How did you even get in my room!?" Louise shouted in irritation.

"Throzugh the winodow! whow else?!" the crab shouted back

"Then it's not your room, you broke in!" Louise reasoned.

"Don't lact ilke you own the pazce!" the crab slurred.

"I DO OWN THIS PLACE!" Louise howled.

"Ow, ow, ow," the crab rubbed his pincer on his head in pain. "Luke, I hav'a migraine, quiet down."

Louise rubbed the temples on her head, taking a couple deep breaths and remembering the mission she was given. Tweaking her attitude, she glanced at the drunken crab.

"Alright, crab, I was sent to you expecting a guide," Louise explained.

"Who sent you!? was iit Brutus? tell that bastard he'll get his money in a couple of weesks! he dolesn't need to go as far to stayb me in my back!" the crab replied, having misunderstood

"What? No! Look, I need some items and I was told by my god that you could help," Louise elaborated.

"God? What?...Oh, yeah, him," the crab pulled an alcoholic beverage out of it's fabric sack. "What does he want this time?"

Louise contemplated what she heard from Founder Brimir and repeated it.

"A Heart of Order, A Soul Gem containing the Gray Prince, wool from a sheep on the prairie, Scroll of Lightning Bolt, and a Blue Mountain Flower Potion."

The crab dropped his bottle, and his eye stared deeply into Louise.

"Those are important things. Why do you need them?" The crab briefly sobered now the situation was made clear to him.

"My familiar is knocking at death's door," Louise answered with a weak voice. "And I want to help."

"Hrm," the crab rubbed the closest thing it had to a chin with his pincer. "Alrigh'."

The crab grabbed his merchandise, which was bundled in his fabric sack, he tossed it on his back and took a bottle with a purple liquid out of the sack.

"Follow me."

"Bet firstr, drkin this," the crab took a swig of the bottle's content, which was composed of a purple liquid.

"No thanks, I do not drink alcohol," Louise refused his offer.

"No stupuid, it's not aaale, i'sts a potion, you'll neeed it," the crab explained.

"What kind of potion," Louise questioned skeptically.

"Dis," the crab walked away from Louise.

Clink. Clank. Clink. Clank. Clink. Clank. Clink. Clank.

The crab climbed her wall and edged towards the open window which was several stories up in the air.

"See you uon teh other side," the crab jumped out the window causing Louise to shriek in shock and surprise.

"WHAAAAAAAT?!" Louise ran across the room in record speed.

CLINCLANKCLINCLANKCLINCLANK

Louise stuck her head out the window, expecting to see the splattered remains of the crab she met. To her surprise, the crab was on the ground safe and waving his pincer in support that she do the same thing.

A lot of her skepticism went out the window, just like the drunken crab. Though not enough that visions of failure involving broken bones and a mouth full of blood completely vanished.

Louise took a deep breath. She took a swig of the purple potion given to her. The liquid soothed her throat with a icy cold coolness.

She closed her eyes and crawled out onto her window's ledge. She made a quick prayer to Founder Brimir then she jumped, expecting to plummet to the ground.

Contrary to her common sense and the knowledge of the world she lived in, her descent was slow. Very slow actually. She glided down like a feather, teeter tottering with the wind.

Her feet lightly touched the ground. She stared, shock, at the crab.

"Watcha loookin at?" the crab slurred archly.

"How, how do you have a potion that causes such a magical effect?!" Louise was flabbergasted. The greatest apothecary in her nation's history couldn't brew such an incredible potion. Potions were, to her knowledge, strictly used as a curative for the ill or a medicine for the severely injured. No one has embedded a liquid with a magical spell. That was only in fairy tales.

"It's nuttin special, just a-" the crab hiccuped, "slow-" hiccup "fall-" hiccup "spell."

"A slow fall spell?" she inquired. Louise heard of the Spell of Levitation which was more versatile, but this potion's instantaneous effect would be more useful in emergencies when there was no time to say an incantation or wave a wand or a staff.

"I'm a guide - *Hiccup* - not a - *Hiccup* - teacher," the crab informed. "If you wanna know, - *Hiccup* - talk to yo'r family'ar."

The crab began to crawl away from Louise, heading for the main gate of the academy.

Louise was still stunned that a drunken crab accomplished more than the greatest minds in Tristain could ever achieve.

"Where are we going, Mr…" now that Louise had a moment to think about it, she never asked for the crab's name. Regardless of it not being human, it was a guide of Founder Brimir himself.

"Old Salty," the crab pulled another bottle of ale from his merchandise sack, drinking the alcoholic beverage.

"Why are you called Old Salty?" Louise inquired.

"Why arue you so psink?! You ask tofo many questions!" Old Salty proved his name to the young mage.

"Why are you a crab?" she rebutted.

"I'ma mudcrab...racist" Salty responded.

"You are a crab, and I'm a human, there is no racism between two different species," she rebutted.

"Speciesist," Old Salty sassed.

"We are getting nowhere with this," Louise stated.

"We're getting closezr thoough."

Louise and Old Salty walked out of the main gate of Tristain Academy of Magic. To their right was a dense forest and to their left was a wide prairie with a dirt road separating both the two

Old Salty headed right and entered the dense foliage with Louise following.

"Where are we heading?" the young pink-haired mage asked.

"Yo' don't remember? You were here?" the mudcrab claimed.

"I was not here, I would have remembered it," Louise countered.

"No you were here, I can prove it," Old Salty insisted.

The foliage of the forest was sparse and empty, the farther they traveled into the forest, the more and more damaged the forest appeared to be in. To the point where a majority of foliage was cleared by a large explosion. A crater remained in the foliage clearing.

Then the smell hit Louise. Bodies upon bodies were piled on each other. Strange white corpses were stained with blood, the creatures had three holes in their heads. Armored men wearing helmets with three vertical line slits and a single long spike at the top. These men also decorated the grave along with the creatures.

One body in particular stood out from the rest, it was robed in black with a metallic mask which was polished to the point of reflection.

"What are those? Are-Are they human?" Louise voiced her concern.

"You can caoll them humman, but they threw teeir hummanity aawy a long time agooo," the mudcrab took a swig of his ale before moving on with his statement. "Yo' killed dem, killed dem good."

"I-I killed them? How? Why? What?" Louise was confused on many levels of possible confusion. How did she kill them? Why did she kill them, and what caused her not to remember something this important?

"What did I say before? Save it for yo'r family'r."

"Wha-"

"Save it! Grab de hurt," Old Salty commanded.

"Grab the heart?" Louise tilted her head in confusion.

"Dat's a Priest of Order," Old Salty drank even more ale. "Yo' neeeed a Heart of Order, dat's a Priest of Order." He pointed a claw at the masked corpse. "Put to and to togeder."

"How-Wait-You want me to-" Louise stuttered.

A knife was thrown towards Louise's feet. It was a jagged knife. The young noble got on a knee and picked it up.

"Yo' had no problem killin before, pleez don't give a crab's shiiit about it taking a hurt now," the crab said, drunkenly philosophic.

"But-" Louise was interrupted.

"Eider cut a hurt out or let yo'r family'r die," Old Salty made the options clear.

Louise felt like she had swallowed a rock. She carefully made her way down the steep crater, knife in hand. The urge to run away was expanding in her chest, making her more aware of her pounding heart..

She was going against everything she had been taught to avoid. As a noble growing up, it had been drilled into her that tasks from sweeping dirt to cleaning was beneath her station. As a sheltered child who had never even seen an animal butchered for dinner. The thought of climbing into a pit of corpses to cut out a stranger's heart was unthinkable. Louise would do it though. For her god and for her family.

She approached the masked corpse stumbling over the surrounding bodies. Her hands were shaking around her white knuckled grip on the knife. Louise hesitated, then resolved herself. The blade pierced the cloth of the robes, then further, cutting through skin and muscle until it hit bone.

Louise was surprised and thankful there was no blood as she widened the hole she made in the corpse's chest. The body under the robes was desiccated like a dried up husk.

The young mage was a smart girl, passionately pursuing knowledge of the world around her. One of those arts she knew academically was about the basics of medicine and anatomy. With some trial and error she managed to remove the shriveled heart from its cavity without damaging it. But that was after numerous trials and failures with making an opening with a jagged knife.

.

She held the cold heart in her hand and a spasm of disgust went through her. It was the grossest thing she ever touched.

The heart in her hands pulsed, nearly causing her to drop it. She bit back a scream that made her inhale sharply. She gagged at the smell of week old bodies decaying around her.

She scambled out of the crater and handed over the still beating heart to Old Salty.

"Took ya long enough." The mudcrab put the heart into his merchandise bag and began to scutter the direction they had come from, away from the gruesome scene.

"W-what was that?" she asked with a traumatized look.

"That's yo'r handy work," the crab admitted.

"How do you know?!" she demanded an answer.

"I was der," the mudcrab made his way out of the foliage and into the prairie fields.

"But-" Louise was interrupted.

"What do I keep tellin ya?!" Old Salty shouted.

"You're a guide, not a teacher."

"WRONG! I'm a guide, not a historian!"

Louise didn't know what to think of anymore. Her familiar dies, Founder Brimir gives her a quest, she meets a drunken mudcrab, and she took the heart of a priest. She felt like she was hallucinating or this was all just a bad dream.

They eventually made an exit from the dense foliage of the forest and gazed at the open plains. The prairie was lit a beautiful color by the sinking sun, turning the swaying grasses auburn as it began to sink below the horizon. Herds of roaming sheep finished their grazing and began to form a herd to bed down for the night.

"Next up, wooly-wool" Old Salty reminded the nearly traumatized woman.

Louise and Old Salty stopped before the herd. Louise glanced down at Old Salty who held out shears for her to use. For once Louise was thankful, even if the menial labor she would perform what was fit for commoners, instead of cutting a heart out of a priest.

Brandishing the shears and prepared for the worst, she walked carefully up to the nearest sheep. It looked at her, it pupils so different from a human's; horizontal and resembling a dumbbell.

The sheep lay quiescent as she uncertainly cut the thick wool from its body. It seemed thankful for the trim. After a half hour of hard labor, a slab of wool hit the ground. Beads of sweat raced down Louise's forehead.

The sun sunk under the horizon and night reclaimed the land, which worried Louise since there was no telling what sort of monsters were hiding and ready to pounce.

"Don't kissh the sheeeep now," Old Salty jested.

"Why would I kiss a sheep?" Louise questioned dubiously, handing Old Salty the wool.

"You kisshed me, so I'm just sayin, dunt do it."

A beat of silence passed, and Louise clenched her fists as she couldn't take anymore from this drunkard. The difference between their social positions were as massive as a canyon. She needed to show him who was the noble and who was the crab.

Her brows furrowed and a vein popped out of her forehead. She reeled back a kick and knocked the crab a good couple of meters into a thick bush of tall grass.

"Oi! What de fock!" the mudcrab yelled, irately waving the pincer still clutching the wool.

"The hell I did, you drunk, fantasizing, idiot," Louise's anger was fuming from her frame

"Foooocking woman" the crab insulted the short fused woman.

Louise and Old Salty walked through the fields in an awkward silence. The young noble woman refused to talk to the crab anymore. The silence was broken half way through the trip when an owl hooted, scaring the wits out of Louise.

"Her-Her-Her, such a wittle baeby" the mudcrab mocked the dignified noble.

"Shut up!" she stomped her feet as she reached the academy. Quickly making her way to the infirmary.

The Old Salty led Louise back to her comatose familiar who lay unmoving in his bed. A small revelation was brought forth by Louise. As she feared that they missed a few components.

"What about the Soul Gem or the Scroll?" an anxious tone followed her question.

"Don't worry about dat, I already have does," he brushed off Louise concerns.

Louise stared at her familiar, his tranquil face showing no strain from his horrifying injuries.

A voice familiar and comforting rang in her head.

Welcome back my child, I see you've done what I've asked of you without fail.

"Yes, Founder Brimir," Louise said with the utmost respect, cheeks rosy from being praised.

Now what I need you to do, is to grab the Heart of Order and the Soul Gem. Wrap them together with the wool you've gathered.

Old Salty unpacked a soul gem and handed the crystal to the noble.

Louise did exactly that, covering the heart and Soul Gem completely. She then tilted her head skyward for further orders.

Next, place the heart in your familiar's hole.

Louiseb ent to place the bundle inside of her familiar, then backed away.

Old Salty should have the Scroll of Lightning Bolt and the Blue Mountain Flower Potion on him.

"Old Salty, he requires the Scroll of Lightning Bolt and the Blue Mountain Flower Potion. Give it to me," Louise ordered the mudcrab.

"Eh, fiiiine."

His pincer reached into his merchandise sack, retrieving the requested items. They were a rolled up parchment paper with a red stamp ribbon and a red glass vial that glowed with a crimson liquid.

He gave both items to the young mage who tilted her head up, awaiting more orders.

First, unravel the Scroll of Lightning Bolt. Utilize the spell by repeating the name, aiming at his heart. When the spell is complete, open his mouth and pour the Blue Mountain Flower Potion down his throat.

Louise nodded nervously, uncertain that she would be able to cast the spell. But if her god believed she could do it, she would.

Louise let the parchment unfold, revealing alien runes that matched the ones on her familiar's wrists. She closed her eyes and aimed her open palm at her familiar's heart.

"Scroll-" beads of sweat raced down her forehead, "of Lightning-" her mouth dry, "Bolt," her heart skipped a beat.

The scroll lit aflame and disintegrated into shreds of ash. A streak of light manifested from her hand and lunged for her familiar's heart. Sparks covered the wool bundle, shocking it for a few seconds.

Then, the unbelievable happened.

Budump-Budump, Budump-Budump, Budump-Budump

His heart began to beat. The wool and soul gem melted into the heart, giving it more healthy read pigment.

Louise couldn't believe any of this. She used magic. SHE USED MAGIC! Louise practically squealed in joy, giving a small hop of excitement.

The young, pink-haired mage/firmly gripped her familiar's and forced his mouth open. She uncorked the health potion and poured the liquid down his throat. He began to cough, flecks of the crimson liquid landing like blood around his mouth.

Miraculously, the hole in his chest began to close up. First bone, then muscle, tissue, skin, knitting together to cover the gaping wound. Until all that remained was pink circle on his chest.

"HOHAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" The Champion of Cyrodiil took a violent gasp of air.

His torso jolted, taking its first breathe in over a week. His eyes snapped open, immediately scrutinizing his surroundings. His eyes then locked with the young mage's.

"You." He said that word with a simple delight. He remembered.

* * *

One week ago. Springtime Familiar Summoning.

A man in his late thirties to early forties stood before a group of students, all wearing black cloaks and golden pendants engraved with pentagrams.

The teacher, Colbert, was bald and bespectacled. His academic robes a dark blue with white trim. He held a staff with red stripes, thick near the bulbous knot at the top of the rod that thinned as they spiraled down the pole.

Heavy black clouds swirled around the sky, so heavy and low they seemed it seemed they would break loose an ocean's worth of water. Lightning danced around the plains in the distance.

"Ahem." Professor Colbert cleared his throat. Most of his students had completed the familiar summoning. There was only one student who hadn't tried yet today. It wasn't her first attempt. She had failed the process four times previous. Her name was-

"Louise de la Valliere, please come forth," the teacher announced, which earned a few snickers here and there from the crowd of nobles. The noble mages were gossip driven folk and Louise was infamous within the school.

"Louise the Zero is at it again," one of the nobles whispered.

"Wonder how big this explosion will be, I heard yesterday's attempt left an impressive crater," another noble, louder.

"Ha, that's nothing. One time she blew up one of the academy walls to ruin," a third noble joined in on the fun.

"Ha, Louise the Zero, just classic."

"QUIET!" Colbert shouted, causing the gossipers to straighten their backs. "If you can not act like nobles, I will have you suspended for harassment. Do you understand?" the teacher threatened, causing them to nod their heads silently.

She played deaf and ignored the constant jeers around her abilities as a mage.

"Miss Valliere, please step up to the runic circle," Professor Colbert requested after composing himself.

The circle was composed of runes written in white chalk mixed with closely guarded secret blend that was used to prevent illegal familiar summonings.

Louise stood before the runic circle and closed her eyes, thinking of the proper phrasing to summon the perfect familiar. After a few moments, words firmly in mind, she rose her wand high in the air and said the following in a stern voice.

"My Familiar that exists somewhere in this vast universe, my divine, beautiful, wise, servant!" Louise called upon the vast emptiness of the universe. "My name is Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière. Pentagon of the five elemental power, heed my summoning, familiar," a pulse could be felt from her very words from the ground around them.

A single droplet of water fell from the black clouds swarming the sky and hit one of the runes written on the ground in chalk, smearing it. A small error that could yield unexpected, even frightening results.

"I wish from the very bottom of my heart and add to my guidance and appear!" she entreated her familiar, waiting its response. With those final words all the students braced themselves for the inevitable. Colbert himself took an instinctive step back after so many past failures.

BWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The explosion was greater than any previous failure. It obscured what remained of the circle with a thick cloud of smoke. A few students were knocked down by the mere size of the explosion. Louise sighed, she hadn't expected to succeed, but still felt crushed. It was truly insanity, doing something over and over again, expecting a different result.

"Another failure," Louise said before anyone else could.

"I'm sorry Miss Valliere. Tomorrow is another day," Colbert encouraged.

"Ha, Louise the Zero did it again!" laughed one of the nobles.

"What did you suspect, it's only natural that she failed," another noble reasoned.

"My god, it's a new record, did you see that explosion?!" the third noble queried.

Louise remained stoic, not giving her enemies a chance to relish in her anguish. Her turmoil of emotions boiled just under her skin.

"Louise the Zer-" a bottle hit the noble in the face and shattered, knocking the bully down to the ground. They lay, bleeding from glass shards that had pierced the skin.

"Shad up! I have a hangover!" a voice boomed from within the clouds of dense smoke.

"ARGGGGGH!" the noble was rolling around on the floor in pain.

"W-who's there?" Louise questioned the mysterious voice.

A six legged being crawled out of the smoke and approached the young mage. Its pincer held a glass bottle of ale.

"Eh?" Louise voiced her concern to her lackluster summoning.

"You called?" the crab inquired.

In another world, it would be weird if anything other than a human spoke english. In the lands of Halkeginia though, familiars have the capability to perform a myriad of functions creatures of their shape normally couldn't.

Cat familiars could help improve its master's hearing. Dogs familiars could help improve its master's sense of smell. Some familiars can speak telepathically and this crab, this crab can speak.

"But-I-No-What-" Louise swerved her head to Colbert, "Professor Colbert! Mulligan! Let me try again!"

"No, Louise. To perform a second time after succeeding is sacrilegious," Professor Colbert informed.

"But-" Louise pleaded, but was interrupted.

"Perform the contract," Professor Colbert ordered.

"Errr," Louise grumbled in irritation, she summoned something but it didn't meet her expectations.. The pink haired mage approached the crab who wobbled in place, possibly, or really likely, severely drunk at the moment.

"My name is Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière. Pentagon of the five elemental powers. Bless this humble being, and make him my familiar." She recited the contract between master and familiar, got on her knees and kissed the crab.

A moment passed and nothing happened. There were no runes being inscribed on her crab familiar, which is what happened to every other familiar as a result of the contract.

"Did yo' jush kisssh me?" the drunken crab asked in confusion.

"What?" Colbert let his concern known. "How is that not Miss Valliere's familiar? More importantly, if that's not her familiar, how can the crab talk?"

"Did you just kiss my crab?! No one can kiss my crab, not even me! Well, maybe on a drunk night. A very, very drunk night," a voice broke the confusion. There was one more individual hidden within the smoke.

The last of the haze cleared, revealing an oddly dressed man. His strange outfit was high quality fabric but looked like two suits sewn together. The right side red while the other was purple. At his belt was a sheathed sword with two separate blades connected to the hilt with teeth in between them. A purple eye on the hilt. He leaned on a cane whose knob was a large, living eye. His hair and beard were white but he was filled with a vigor that made his age unclear.

"WHO ARE YOU!" Louise howled at the stranger.

"Oh Founder. Did Louise summon a commoner?" one of the noble whispered.

"Can't believe it. She couldn't summon a normal familiar so she summoned a commoner familiar. Classic Louise the Zero."

"I am Sheogorath, Prince of Madness!" the man gave gusto to his title. "A pleasure to meet you this fine afternoon. But I must ask. What compelled you to bring me to your lands?" Sheogorath inquired, walking a steadily towards Louise.

"Power, fame, glory, money, hatred, revenge, sorrow, or…" Sheogorath guessed randomly. Getting on one knee to whisper to her ear. "Madness?"

"Louise. Please complete the ceremony." Professor Colbert began to rub his temples from confusion and stress.

"What do you wish for?" Sheogorath asked with a devious smile.

Louise began mumbling the contract spell, earning Sheogorath's interest.

"What are you whispering?" the crazy man leaned closer to hear.

"...Make him my familiar," Louise finished. She pulled the old man towards her lips and gave him a peck on the lips.

Professor Colbert flinched. Not because Louise was kissing the old man, but from what he felt as he finished casting a Spell of Detection. Whoever this stranger was, his magical potential was more than what was possibly feasible.

"Whoa! Why are you being such a harlot with those lips?! First, you kissed a crab, then an old ma-" he stopped before he could finish his sentence. A burning sensation erupted from his right hand and beams of light broke through his skin, engraving his hand with runes symbols.

Sheogorath had faced many peculiar things in his life. He'd been in the head of an insane dead emperor to have a tea party. He'd manipulated another god into killing his own son. He's even killed a ravaging beast only using a small bird. This joined that list. Not at the top, but this incident had him experience a feeling he hasn't felt since he was mortal. Pain.

He screamed in agony towards the angry sky. His hair changed color from white to black with streaks of white. His reptilian pupils changed to round ones, golden irises becoming icy blue. Sheogorath experienced a feeling he hasn't felt in nearly a thousand years. Sanity.

Though sanity coursed through his being, there was something that didn't change. His power.

He is a Daedric Prince, a god among mortals. There are many different daedra in existence but the princes are the strongest of the strong.

What separates Daedric Princes and daedra was power. Daedric Princes were gods who controlled spheres of influence. Sheogorath controlled the sphere of insanity, which was taken from him right now.

But Daedric Princes are composed of magicka. As many beings had learned in the past, it would take the power of the gods to truly cripple or kill someone like Sheogorath.

In an instant the runes disappeared as if never there. His hair and beard drained of color. His eyes once more a reptilian molten gold.

"You know, lassie," the old man started, stern and sharp, promising violence worthy of an angry god. "It's not proper of a woman to snatch a kiss from a man, or his crab."

Sheogorath rose his hand in the air and slammed it downward towards Louise, then he froze. Sheogorath's head swung to his left, staring at the academy gate. He felt a presence he hadn't felt in a long time.

klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq, klybonq.

The sound of metal boots marching on concrete filled the air. Dozens of weird creatures marched, echoing with precision.

First came the Vanguards of the march. They wore helmets with three holes. A frown was carved into the helmet and white, hair-like strands sprouted from the top of its helmet . Their full body armor was light and weak. They were known as Pawns of Order.

Next were lines of knights in metallic gray armor. Their helmets had three vertical slits and a singular long spike at the top of the helm. They were the Knights of Order; daedra.

Behind them were a couple of priests in black robes. They wore metallic gray masks, the top sharply edged like a stagnant flame. The same gray metal made their gauntlets, belts and slim chest protection. They were the Priests of Order, though it would be more appropriate to call them Bishops of Order. Humans who accepted the Blessing of Order.

They all moved with inhuman precision, every step a mirror of their neighbor's.

The Knights of Order screeched, the sound similar to metal grinding against metal. A howl that would haunt the dreams of everyone present.

The Daedric Prince began to glow, then the space around Sheogorath brightened to a blinding intensity, like concentrated sunlight. It became a pillar of light that broke past the black clouds, creating a cloudless sky. It was in the late evening, yet the sky acted like it was noon.

The light dissipated. Sheogorath reverted to his mortal form, hair now entirely black. Black shackles appeared around his wrists, engraved with runes that glowed like fire. He felt so drained he wanted to pass out.

Gray light manifested in a sphere of above the soldiers who marched into the academy. Inside the light was a giant, bland head wearing a trident-like helmet with three spikes covering the front of its face.

It was an avatar of Jyggalag.

The eyes of the floating avatar glared down at the shackled man, and spoke monotone words.

"You. You are parasite that may never leave me. Why do you disturb this realm I have claimed?"

"If this a realm that you've claimed," the shackled man took heavy breaths. "Then why is it so...disorderly, mistake driven, flawed?"

"The flaws of this realm are not my concern. The Greymarch will purify the lands in due time," Jyggalag explained.

"What are your worries? Why do you chain me down?" the man in shackles accused.

"Gods can not kill gods, that is law. The other Daedric Princes figured that out when they tried to do the same. So, they took a new approach. They cursed me to transform into you every millennium, just for it to be undone and revert me back to my former glory. A never ending cycle. I can not kill you, and you can not kill me. But I can curse you."

"A...curse?" The Champion of Cyrodiil inquired.

"Yes, a curse. Those shackles bind you back to your mortal form, before you took on the mantle of Sheogorath. Though I can not take away your sphere of influence, it appears I will not have to with those runes on your hands. While I can not obliterate Sheogorath, I can suppress the madman. You are a swordsman without a sword, an archer without a bow."

"A curse? I call it a blessing, my mind has not been my own for over 200 years!" The Champion of Cyrodiil voiced his gratitude . "Although, I'm thankful, I still hate you. Although I'm happy, I despise you beyond belief."

The man walked forward threateningly. "I defeated you once, I'll do it again," he said, confident.

The vanguards of the march, the Pawns of Order, charged towards The Champion. The watching nobles paralysis broke and fled the incoming threat.

A concentrated inferno lunged like a snake, consuming a majority of the vanguard forces. The Pawns of Order collapsed, smoking.

The one responsible was the bald teacher. "I have no idea what's going on. I'm also ignorant of the history that you two have. But one thing's for certain. You will not hurt my students," Colbert's eyes were as hard as rocks.

"Thank you," The Champion appreciated some back up once in awhile. "Let me show you some of my talents."

The Champion of Cyrodiil began to charge at the next Pawn of Order. The pawn raised his sword, meaning to bring it down like a guillotine. As he swung the blade down, The Champion parried the blow with his blade. Duskfang.

The two swords clashed against one another. Duskfang twisted to allow the enemy's blade to force itself into the gap between its blades, letting Duskfang's two blades pierce the slots in the pawn's helmet. The pawn's body began to violently spasm before falling like a puppet whose strings were cut.

The remaining vanguard regrouped and joined the Knights of Order who sprinted towards The Champion of Cyrodiil.

A spell rose from his thoughts. A unique and custom spell he created a long time ago, which helped him get out of a lot of situations where he had been out numbered.

The Champion of Cyrodiil raised his hand and channeled his magicka to make this spell come to life.

Deadly Detonation

Fire Damage an area effect of 100ft, 1 second.

He casted the spell towards the center of the crowd of soldiers, tossing them around like ragdolls.

The Priests of Order cast support spells and the fallen soldiers rose again.

For every knight they defeated, a Priest of Order would summon more. For such spells an obelisk was necessary but there wasn't one in sight. It had to be hidden nearby. Until he could find it, he needed to get the unending horde away from the civilians behind him.

The Champion of Cyrodiil sprinted off towards the main entrance. The Forces of Order turned and charged after the sprinting man.

Louise, watching the entire event play out, instinctively followed her familiar. She didn't understand anything that occurred so far and was in the dark just like everyone else. But that didn't matter. She needed to help her familiar.

Louise followed the damaged path, rushing through the foliage of the forest. Eventually she reached a clearing. At the highest point of the grove was twisted oak tree surrounded by a bed of blue flowers. The flowers were splattered with blood.

Her familiar's body lay against the knotted trunk, rib cage broken and bleeding. A giant stood over him, ripped out heart still in it's grip. Blood dripped from its metallic armor. Over four meters tall its body was bulky and rough. It's head entirely hidden entirely by a featureless helmet. Not even a slip for eyes. It was a Rook of Order.

The beast roared a hellish scream.

Bodies of the Order littered the field. Near the Rook of Order was an Obelisk.

Louise pointed her wand at the beast and shouted the first spell that came to mind.

She had never cast a spell which was successful. Never in her life attempted to cast a spell unrelated to an element. Her train of thought in the heat of the moment was, 'if my familiar can do it, then I can do it too.'

Spell of Detonation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note From Gray Q. Gregory
> 
> If you wish to comment, I will reply.  
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Special Thanks to Jkysler and Surprisingly_Blank
> 
> Until Next Time...


	3. Chapter 2 Unraveling Hysteria

Chapter 2 Unraveling Hysteria

"No, it's a title," The Champion of Cyrodiil said solemnly. His abrupt resurrection took a toll on his speech, making him look and sound weary.

"But, Founder Brimir proclaimed you as a god," Louise had eyes dead set on discovering the truth behind this enigma.

"Do you see these shackles?" The man waved his arms around, earning a jingle from the two small separate chains connect to his cuffs.

"Yes?" her voice was uncertain what the man was leading the question at.

"It's a symbol of my fall. My power was siphoned, so I'm currently a mortal, just like you," he explained simply.

Louise was still not buying into his explanation. From birth, she was conditioned by her family and society to the indoctrination of Founder Brimir. If he said her familiar was a god, then he was without a doubt a god. The question is, why would he lie to her? It was unbelievable that anything could attain a godlike power, especially one stronger than her own.

"I understand," she lied to her familiar, not wanting to show a shred of ignorance. She would eventually figure out what would be the source of his lie.

"Where am I exactly?" the man requested an answer.

To which Louise replied, "Tristain Academy of Magic,"

It earned a firm nod of understanding from the man.

Louise clasped her hands together in a prayer, she wanted some guidance, and it worked before, why not again?

She whispered in her hands, soft enough to elude the ears of her familiar. "Founder Brimir, why does my familiar lie to me? Does he not understand that I am his master?"

The champion gazed at the young pink-haired girl, and wondered why she would start a prayer out of the blue. A good question that manifested in the man's head was, _who is Founder Brimir and how did she know I was a god?_ An even better question would be, _if she knew I were a god, then why didn't she refer to me by the proper title of Daedric Prince?_

A quiet voice graced Louise's mind, to Louise it was soft and caring voice. To a potential stranger they would be skeptical, wary, and would practically see the malicious smile to the disembodied voice, the subtle sinister glee portrayed the visual.

_**Young Louise, this man is a tragic soul, trust comes in minute amounts to this dog of war. He lies because he understands nothing about you, besides your potential, but be attentive, and be cautious.** _

_**This man is the key to saving our people from extinction, keep your tongue silver and sharp.** _

"Thank you, Founder Brimir," she whispered her gratitude. Her god's words only brought forth more questions that needed answers, but she wasn't as ignorant as she was before and she was thankful of that. She wouldn't question Founder Brimir why she had to be cautious around her familiar nor would she question why he spoke more fluently than before with no pauses. Her god was the incarnate of truth and understanding, questioning his motives or actions would be sacrilegious.

"Sorry to interrupt your prayer," the champion was no stranger to praying, he prayed to many different gods of vastly different natures.

He had respect for his own gods, the Nine Divine and Daedric Princes.

The Nine Divine were creators of his world, with the exception of one. All of the Nine Divine were dubbed by the elves as 'Aedra', translating to 'Our Ancestors'.

While their opposite were the 'Daedra', translating to 'Not Our Ancestors'. The Daedra were born before the stars, the strongest of their kind were The Daedric Princes.

The princes each held a sphere of influence, which is in the simplest term, their particular areas of concern or interest. They manipulate their sphere of influence which most daedra could never hope to achieve, in essence, they are gods.

The champion's previous sphere of influence, was Insanity. His mantle or title of Sheogorath was created when Jyggalag was cursed for his own overwhelming power from his sphere of influence, Order.

"I must know, what is your name, young mage?" the champion inquired. He knew the young girl was a mage, due to his final vision before dying, the young girl brought forth a rather large spectacle with her incantation.

"Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière," she replied with a tone of nobility cloaking her name. "And what is yours, divine familiar?"

"Divine...familiar?" he was at a loss for additional words. He only remembered what'd happened since Jyggalag cursed Sheogorath, up to the point of his 'death'. In no bit in between did he remember being subjected to a mage, by no means was she weak, though she wasn't on the same level as himself.

"Yes, you are my familiar sent to me by Founder Brimir himself," she could barely hide her excitement, the very idea that her god was giving her attention was an indescribable feeling. Like she was the chosen one. "What is your name?"

"Divine...familiar…" those words hung like a guillotine over the Champion of Cyrodiil. He just broke from the chains of bondage that the mantle of Sheogorath held over him. He has been twisted into a mad god and imprisoned within inane antics for more than 200 years. And just like that, he was already chained down to service once more. But what confused him is what made him seem _divine._

"Uhh...What's your name?" Louise was confused by her familiar's unnatural pause, so she repeated the question in hopes of a better response.

"My name is lost to me, young mage," the champion stated in a soft tone. A draft of wind rushed itself into the infirmary, through a window that was ajar. "What makes me your familiar?"

The Champion of Cyrodiil wasn't ignorant to familiars, he's summoned his fair share of them through the school of magic known as Conjuration. Many abominations have been manifested into his world during his time of need. Unspeakable horrors were brought with the conjurations, either being labelled as such because of their appearance or by their harridence actions that they performed to their enemies.

Louise was dumbfounded, her eyes were confused to why she would have to explain something so simple to a familiar from Founder Brimir?

"You and I have performed the contract to the Springtime Familiar Summoning, we are both bound together as master and familiar. Your left hand has runes to prove it," Louise explained.

The champion glanced at his hand, and lo and behold, tan colored runes were seared onto his left hand. The runes in particular were daedric in nature, which confused him. He could only translate one of the runes and it read-

"God."

"See, I knew that you were a god, your runes even say so," the pink-haired girl said with uncontainable excitement. A dragon couldn't compare to a familiar of Founder Brimir.

"No, I was just reading the-"

"Look, no matter how much you try and deny it, I know that you are a god," the young mage was not taking no as an answer or any other logical explanation. She was absolutely certain that her familiar was still a god.

"Fine, I'm a god," the champion conceded, knowing it was futile to teach a person with such conviction otherwise. Louise practically squealed in excitement until her familiar continued his sentence. "But I am not your familiar."

"Eh?" Louise was blindsided that her familiar refused her as his master. She honestly didn't know how to respond to the situation.

"I've been an errand boy for men, women, and gods all my life," he began to explain. His eyes closed in deep thought about her service. "I have earned the respect of many, and many have earned my respect. I will not serve you, not until you can prove something to me."

Louise leaned in forward, she would do anything to prove her worth to this man who was proclaimed by her god.

"What can I do?" she asked anxiously.

"Two things," he rose his hand in the air.

"One, prove your worth to me and you will earn my respect," he shifted his index finger skyward.

"Two, beat me in combat and I will concede, proclaiming you as my master," his second finger went upward,. He smiled at his second request, because he fully knew that he would never lose a match against this mage. It was a lot to ask for, to defeat him, but it's also a lot to ask for someone to submit as a servant.

Louise blinked her eyes a couple times, as she was shocked that she had to go through so much to earn a familiar. Not only did she fail the Springtime Familiar Summoning a myriad of times, but she had to prove her worth and strength against her familiar and she didn't know how to do either.

Babysteps. Louise would tackle the first request instead of both at the same time, it alleviated the stress of two immense tasks. She would worry about the later another time.

Louise cupped her hand around her chin in thought, how would she go about proving her worth to her familiar. After a few moments of silence, the young mage gazed at her soon to be, divine familiar.

"So, how do I possibly prove my worth to you?" Louise questioned.

"You should know this, Louise. Proving your worth shows me how much you amount to, how intelligent you may be, or perhaps your resourcefulness, or your skill, I could go on, but you should understand that we all have something to show our worth," the man turned to the side of his bed and stood up.

He walked over to the nightstand and reached for his clothes and changed in front of Louise, showing his full moon to her face. Changing from a patient's gown to a regal attire with red on one side of the suit and pants, and purple on the other. A white shirt was under the expensive clothing. He fashioned a beastial sword to his side, and gazed at it intently.

Dawnfang.

The sword was unique. He claimed the sword from an ignorant orc adventurer that dared enter the Shivering Isles. What made the sword so special was that it transformed depending on the time of day. If it was Dawnfang, then it meant that from the morning, throughout the day, it would be represented by the orange gem on the hilt and an orange gem on the pommel.

Its counterpart was Duskfang, which would take effect during the evening, throughout the night, it would be represented by a blue gem on the hilt and a purple gem on the pommel.

According to the orc adventurer's journal, he found it in an Ayleid ruin, and it was forged by the Tsaesci, which was an exotic race of vampiric serpent folk. How it ended up in the ruins is beyond anyone's guess.

It explains a lot, as the effects of the blade and its transformation is more understandable by knowing the race that made it.

If one states the bloodthirst of the sword, it will become a superior blade after enough lives have been extinguished by the blade. The abilities it gains, is siphoning an opponent's life and magicka. Although the moment it transforms to its counterpart, it will need its bloodthirst sated once more.

This sword is one of the strongest blades he's ever come across, and with its unique ability to switch its elemental enchantment during its transformation, it easily became a must have to accompany the man at all times.

He grasped the cool grip of the sword in his hand and nostalgia claimed his mind. He then sheathed the sword by his side and glanced at the mage.

"For now, I will accompany you and give you time to show your worth to me, if you fail, I will leave this academy and journey across the lands," his eyes locked onto young Louise, "I will give you one day to prove yourself."

**ERRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAH**

The Champion's stomach howled in pain as its hunger was beyond starved.

The man with the black beard placed his hand on his stomach, and rubbed it gently.

"It appears I haven't eaten for awhile," his revelation was made known by his stomach.

"Oi, keep it down!" the wasted crab said while in the corner of the room, drinking his problems away.

"I could just have some crab legs for breakfast," the bearded man threatened the mudcrab. Salivating at the thought of slow cooking those _fine_ and _supple_ legs.

…

"...oooooh...you meant my legs back at the palace that one day…Crab legs...My legs...OH MY GOD!" the mudcrab immediately passed out from a delayed reaction of incredible fear.

To be clear, it took the drunken crab a week to realize the threat from Sheogorath was directed towards him, but since he was so wasted, he never fully processed it.

"Wow, that crab is slow...Really slow…" the man said with a pitiful tone.

Louise went over to the drunken crab and poked him a couple times, after she was assured that he was passed out, she rummaged through his sack of merchandise, taking a few Scrolls of Lighting Bolt.

 _Hmm, resourceful._ The Champion of Cyrodiil took note of the subtle action.

Well, she wasn't incompetent, and when she saw a chance, she took the initiative.

"Do you know how to use a scroll?" he inquired the young mage.

"Of course, you unravel the scroll and say it's name," she replied.

"Ha, naive. There is no need to unravel the scroll or say the name, in fact there is no need to hold the scroll at all. As long as you have the name of the scroll in your head and you have the Willpower to conjure the spell, the effect will be instantaneous," the older mage elaborated.

"Let me show you," he uncovered a scroll hidden in his attire, and placed it on his waist to show what he means.

He held out his hand and thought of the spell's name.

**Scroll of Mage's Light.**

A ball of light manifested in his hand and it launched from it, attaching itself to the wall he aimed it at.

The scroll on his side swiftly changed from parchment to ash as it erupted into a small fire that didn't burn the caster.

"Whoa," Louise has never encountered a magical scroll till today and she was astonished that it was feasible to do so much with such little preparation. This was indeed, useful information.

"Could you escort me to the nearest mess hall?" her soon to be familiar asked.

"Certainly," she said with glee.

They left the room and traversed down the hallway. Louise lost herself in thought as many things occurred in such a small span of time.

She was surprised that she summoned a human familiar, and if it were anything besides a descendant of royalty or a proclaimed champion from her god, then she would have probably treated the poor thing with little respect to no respect, she probably would have treated it less than a dog. She was just thankful she didn't summon a commoner, or else she would have never lived it down. She shuddered at the thought of summoning something so...filthy.

A question popped into her head that she had to inform the person she was escorting.

"What kind of mage were you?" she queried to the man. Using scrolls in such a fashion wasn't something typical, hell, Founder Brimir couldn't use magic in such a fashion.

"I was an Archmage of the Mage's Guild, in the province of Cyrodiil. My research on magic lasted far longer than my rank in the guild," he confessed as he nearly salivated at the mouth thinking about food.

"A-an Archmage?!" she didn't know what to expect from a god, but as a mortal, reaching such a rank sounds extremely difficult. Although, instead of questioning the rank, she was more curious about the guild. "What is the Mage's Guild?"

"The Mages Guild is a guild dedicated to the collection, preservation, and distribution of magical knowledge with an emphasis on ensuring that all citizens of Tamriel benefit from this knowledge. Tamriel being the continent that I have inhabited previously," the man knew he wasn't on his continent anymore, nor his world of Nirn. The reason why he knew this was because of simple deduction. Jyggalag revealed himself on this mortal plane, Nirn is protected from daedric beings from manifesting their avatars. Therefore, this world is foreign and unknown. Not to mention, he wasn't oblivious to his thoughts or actions while he held the mantle as Sheogorath. Sheogorath knew he was entering a foreign world, as did the champion.

That doesn't mean that the champion remembers everything while he was Sheogorath, as his memory was a little fuzzy on a few thing in the Shivering Isles and this new world.

"'All citizens', even commoners?" that was a concept that Louise couldn't wrap her head around.

"Yes, in the world I came from, everyone has the potential to learn our magic, some more gifted than others," he included that last part as that was factual.

"Everyone?" she questioned with more interest.

"Yes, everyone I've come across has the potential to use some level of magic," they both began to walk down a staircase.

What startled her was the fact that commoners could learn magic, but what fascinated her about that statement was that anyone could learn his kind of magic, even someone like her, who has failed all types of elemental magic she was being taught at by the teachers of the academy.

A grin formed on her face, she could conjure a magical effect from a scroll, perhaps this man could be the only teacher to show her magic.

All she had to do was to show her worth to him.

Her excitement was interrupted by a very familiar and irritating voice.

"Well if it isn't Louise the 'Crab Kissing' Zero," a red-haired woman announced. She was climbing the stairwell along with two additional people. The announcer, was a tan woman with breasts the size of melons.

"Heheheh" the woman next to her laughed, she was a blonde with locks of hair past her shoulders and a red bows on both sides of her head. Her face held freckles and a small, yet sharp nose.

"..." the last woman of the trio was silent, short in both height and blue hair. Glasses were perched on the nose of the woman, as she held a staff and read a book.

The trio all wore black cloaks with the same golden pentagon pendent as Louise.

"Well, if it isn't Kirche the 'Slutty' Ember," Louise blushed from Kirche's insult, yet mocked her bully with counter moniker.

"Ha, it's Kirche the Ardent, and at least I have a runic name, unlike yourself," she covered her hand with her face as she laughed away.

Louise clenched her wand.

"Is that commoner your familiar, Louise the Zero?" the blonde named Montmorency asked, mockery was stressed on every word.

"He is no commoner!" Louise hissed at the Montmorency. "This divine familiar was from Founder Brimir himself."

The trio blinked in awe for a moment, before Kirche and Montmorency began to laugh up a storm. The silent one of the group, was named Tabitha, and she kept her eyes on Louise instead of her book.

"Oh, Founder, I have not laughed that hard in ages," Kirche wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "That sounds like an excuse for being a failure, there is no way that this commoner is either divine or from Founder Brimir."

Montmorency voiced her skepticism as well. "I'm with Kirche, you just do not want to accept failure."

They began to giggle at the thought of Louise summoning a divine familiar. All the girls except Tabitha.

"Yeah, as to be expected from a piece of garbage like her, she could not summon her way out of a trash bag," Kirche jested.

"Hold on, she could not cast a spell without an explosion!" Montmorency laughed.

Louise clenched her wand further, nearly snapping the poor device in half, she was to the point of casting a nasty spell at the bullies.

That was until the champion casted two spells first.

**Schizophrenia**

_Sound, targets are inflicted for 120 seconds._

Both Kirche and Montmorency held their heads as voices began to whisper inside of their minds. It scared them, all the way down their core. It's traumatizing to have foreign voices inside of your head, especially when it's so instantaneous and uncontrollable.

A 'Sound' type spell fell under the school of magic known as Illusion. Usually it was utilized towards mages, to interrupt their spells. This was before Mysticism discovered Silence, and placed it under the school of magic known as Illusion, the spell prevents the use of spells completely.

So 'Sound' type spells died as history moved on. The Champion of Cyrodiil still found some uses for redundant spells. Such as this peculiar moment. The first person he's met so far was being bullied, and he was hungry. That alone wasn't a good combination, so he settled the matter without resorting to bloodshed.

They both fell to the ground mumbling obscenities and horrific things.

"Make it stop...make them stop...MAKE IT STOP!" Kirche repeated these words.

"Ahhhhh! They're coming! They're coming! THEY WANT MY SKIN, THEY WANT MY HAIR! THEY WANT MY BONES! MAKE IT STOP!" Montmorency screamed.

"Louise, let's go, I'm starved," the champion who caused this misfortune, passed by the two women nonchalantly without any remorse.

Louise followed him with a horrified face, she disliked those people but not to this extent. So she had to voice her concern.

"What did you do to them?" she had a turmoil of emotion she couldn't describe, the most prominent of all, was confusion. She didn't want them to be subjected to this pain for the rest of their lives.

Tabitha, shared Louise's concerns and question.

"Don't worry about it, it'll only last for two minutes and they'll be back to their regular selves in no time," he brushed off their concern as he descended down the stairs.

Tabitha couldn't leave the two, so she stood still watching them. Seeing them in such a fractured state of mind made her think of traumatic memories of taking care of her insane mother. The way the two acted was only the response of one type of spell, and that was an Illusion spell. Tabitha knew it was illegal to use Illusion type magic, but that was only related to potions as no caster in this school or this continent could use Illusion type magic, unless they were an-

"Elf."

Tabitha voiced her deduction. Although, she couldn't confront the man about the subject now, she would get to him on a latter time when the magic from the spell wears off from her friend, Kirche.

Louise followed her familiar like a shadow down the staircase, her perception of her familiar was more fearful. With just a raise of the hand and a thought of a spell, he casted magic that could fracture minds, as if it were child's play.

"Let me ask you a question," the man insisted. "Why do they call you, Louise the Zero."

It felt like she had a rock in her throat, she wouldn't-No she couldn't state how she received that awful name. If she were to prove her worth to this man, she couldn't just tell him the real reason how she got that name.

"They were just...bullies…" that was all she could come up with.

"Usually bullies have a way of stemming a name from an incident or a quirk," The Champion of Cyrodiil had his fair share of assholes in his life, this wasn't a new concept to him, although it didn't mean he would stay idly by while others mock their peers. He didn't stand for it when he was an Archmage and his scholars did the same thing, he wouldn't stand for it now.

"It's alright if you wish to keep it to yourself, but, if we become partners, then we can hold no secrets in the future, keep that in mind," that was another fact he's learned about life while adventuring. If there were any lies between comrades in arms, then that would lead to a buildup of tension and distrust, eventually ending with someone dying as a consequence when the going gets rough. Trust is the most important aspect of any relationship.

Louise nodded in understanding.

She lead her familiar from then on, towards the cafeteria. It was a massive hall with three parallel tables, each table was occupied by noble students, all of them wearing different colored cloaks for each table.

"Welcome to the Dining Hall of Alviss," Louise introduced the name of the cafeteria.

"Are the cloaks a rank for how long you attend this academy?" The Champion of Cyrodiil queried.

"Very perceptive of you, yes, each cloak represents how many years you have attended," Louise rose her finger in a style that resembled an instructor. "Brown cloaks are first year, black cloaks are second year, and purple cloaks are third year."

The man nodded, he glanced at the three tables. The one to the far right was composed of brown cloaks, while the middle was black cloaks, finally the far left was purple cloaks. He eventually glanced upward and saw the teachers dining on the upper level, then his eyes laid upon the most interesting thing about the cafeteria.

The statues. They seemed so life like, impressively so. So life like that he could practically see them moving slightly...wait...they were moving slightly.

"Louise…" he said with a pause.

"Yes?" she questioned with a sweet face.

"Are those statues...sentient?" The Champion of Cyrodiil asked cautiously.

"No need to worry, they only come to life at night to dance," she explained. "Again, very perceptive of you."

Louise led the familiar to her seat at the table and offered him a seat next to her at the second year table.

Many maids came out from nowhere, holding platters upon platters of exotic foods.

Flemish stew, gray shrimp croquettes, rabbit with prunes, steak tartare and martino sandwich, ham and endive, and many, many more exotic food.

The smell of food blessed the air with the most wanted aroma, his stomach growled at the trigger and his mouth became more and more moist.

The Champion of Cyrodiil was about to dine in before Louise tugged at his side, and whispered.

"You can not eat yet, you have to join in the annual prayer," the man nearly let out a sigh, but kept it in, knowing to respect other cultures and their customs.

A chorus of voices began the annual routine.

"O' Founder Brimir and our lady the Queen, we thank you for this humble meal that you have graciously provided us this morning," with that said and done, everyone chowed down.

The champion indulged in flemish stew and rabbit with prunes. They sounded unique and something new that he hasn't tried before.

As he enjoyed his meal, he couldn't knock off the feeling as though he was being watched. He shifted his focus to his peripheral vision and noticed that most of the nobles were giving his dangerous looks that could kill. It created an atmosphere of discomfort, so much so that he whispered a question to Louise without drawing even more attention.

"Why are they staring at me?"

"Because, to them, you are a commoner and unfit to dine at the same table as them. They do not understand your significance, and I doubt they ever will," she said with a tone of despair.

He finished his meal and motioned Louise to follow him, and just like that, they departed from the awkward atmosphere.

Louise eventually took hold of the leadership position and lead them outside. A variety of animals met the man's eye. A fire salamander, a frog, a snake, a bunny, a bat, a bear and a...a…

"Louise, what in Oblivion is that abomination over there," he pointed towards a creature that was composed of an eye.

"That's a bugbear," she explained with a shiver, seeing deformities like that really shook her spine.

"HOW DARE YOU!" a voice shrieked in the air.

For a moment, the champion thought it was a woman who just got assaulted. Though on closer inspection, it was just a blond male noble yelling at a maid.

"But-But It was yours…" she pleaded.

"Why didn't you take the hint! Because of you, two woman have had their hearts broken!" the bond noble reprimanded the maid for reasons unknown.

"I didn't do anything though, I just gave you back the cologne you dropped…" she defended herself.

"But! I didn't say it was mine, now did I! You should have took the hint and walked away with it," the blond argued.

"But-"

"Because of your idiotic actions, it will cost you your job," the noble rose his hand in the air, prepared to slash it down to hit the woman, as it descended in the air, it was caught mid fall.

"Why are you going to hit this woman?" the champion queried, catching his hand in a firm grip.

"Why does it matter to you?! I'm a noble and she's commoner, she should accept her beating with a smile on her face, regardless of my reasoning," the blond noble spoke the truth, that was the socially acceptable thing to do in this situation for nobles. If they feel that they've been wronged in any way by a commoner, then it is their duty to choose how they handle the situation, whether it be by chores or beating, both were accepted in the public's eye.

A chubby noble with red cheeks named Malicorne voiced what happened from afar. "Guiche got caught by both of the woman he was two-timing with, now he's blaming it on the maid."

The champion processed the information and gazed at the pathetic man.

"It matters to me, because this woman looks like she's done nothing wrong, if you beat her, then I'll beat you," he laid it down simply.

"Is that so? If you think a commoner such as yourself can 'beat me' then I challenge you to a duel," Guiche offered.

"Challenge accept-"

"Guiche, if you are going to challenge my familiar, at least be a man and challenge his master! You do not see me challenging your mole, Verdante, do you?" she argued the idiotic challenge with some rather good logic.

"Your familiar? I thought he was just a commoner, no matter, I will not challenge a woman in combat," he flaunted his chivalry, earning some gleeful squeals from some noble woman watching the event.

"Ha, I thought you were Guiche the Bronze, not Guiche the Bitch," she antagonized Guiche, causing him to furrow his brow.

"Coming from Louise the Zero! Ha, it would be too easy, and it would only sully my pride and reputation from challenging such a defenseless, no talent, plebeian," Guiche rebutted.

"All I hear is a man who is to much of a chicken to lose to a woman," she antagonized him more.

"No that's not-"

"Bawk!" the champion mocked him.

"Wait, why are you-"

"Bawk!" Louise chimed in.

"That's so childish of-"

"Bawk, Bawk, Bawk!" the crowd of nobles assisted.

"ALRIGHT! I WILL CHALLENGE YOU, LOUISE DE LA VALLIERE TO A DUEL!" Guiche shouted in defeat.

"There we go, the kid is actually a man," the champion said with a smile. He knew the reason why Louise took this challenge upon herself. It was painfully obvious to him, although everyone was ignorant about her motives.

She wanted to prove her worth to him, and him alone.

* * *

Professor Colbert was researching for a week, sparsely ever leaving Fenrir's Library. The library was forbidden for students to enter, because of the certain blasphemous information in this library, only teachers may seek entrance. Even then, teachers didn't have full access to the library since there were many scandalous and dangerous books in the library. Some of the notable books being about alternative gods. Luckily, Colbert had nearly full access to the library, thanks to permission from Headmaster Osmond.

After the day that Louise summoned her familiar, he used a Spell of Detection, which allowed him to see how much magical potential the person had. It was so immense, it couldn't be put into numbers, it was as infinite as the void.

She summoned a god.

He dedicated his time to locating the book which had similar runes to the one that Louise's familiar had. Over a hundred books later and he still hasn't gotten any closer to his goal.

He had stacks of books on the wooden table and floor. He finally resorted to a book he was purposely avoiding.

He stood up and casted a Spell of Levitation, causing him to ascend at an alarming pace, he accelerated past the abnormally high bookshelves in a blur. Eventually halting at the top of the 25 meter bookshelf. He walked on air, tracing his finger across the book shelf organized by the dewey decimal system. He continued till he reached the particular book he was searching for.

Founder Brimir's Mythical Six.

He descended to the ground in great haste, quickly touching his foot lightly on the wooden floor.

He walked over to his wooden table and flicked through the pages, until he reached a page that made him gasp.

"The exact same one," he said aloud.

The page showed the exact same runes that the champion had seared onto his hands. The translation of the runes said as such.

Seal of God's Insanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note From Gray Q. Gregory
> 
> If you wish to comment, I will reply.  
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Special Thanks to Jkysler and Suprisingly_Blank
> 
> Until Next Time...


	4. Chapter 3 Neophytes of Lunacy

Chapter 3 Neophytes of Lunacy

Sir Osmond laced his fingers together while his elbows rested on the sequoia desk, his smoking pipe laid beside his arms, unlit. His luscious white beard was long enough to rest on his lap. Sir Osmond's eyes were unnaturally tainted with anger and disappointment.

"Let me reiterate," Sir Osmond's eyes were alternating between the two nobles involved with the recent duel. "You both knew that dueling was prohibited on academy grounds, yet you still proceeded to duel because of a small squabble."

"Louise antagonized me!" Guiche defended himself. Half of his face was covered in surgical tape. His attitude didn't change much considering the duel he's endured. Guiche then pointed an accusing finger over to Louise. "She called me Guiche the Bitch!"

"Kah!" he slammed his fist on his desk, causing the pipe to jump slightly in the air, and his familiar, Motsognir ran from underneath his clothes in fear.

"You're a noble! Not a three year-old!" Sir Osmond reprimanded. "Louise," the old man looked at the young mage. "I forbid such vulgar language on our premise,  _do you understand!?"_

"Guiche is playing the victim's role, he and everyone else calls me by a disgusting moniker too," Louise argued.

Osmond's eye twitched when he heard this. "Louise de la Valliere! You are no better than Guiche. Not only did you go down to his level, but you scarred his face and probably caused him an irreversible injury!"

"But-" Louise said.

"Ha, Louise-" Guiche began.

"ENOUGH!" Osmond interrupted. "You are both in the wrong! I do not condone bullying on my academy grounds, but regardless of what trivial matters lead up to the fight, it does not change the fact that you both dueled!"

"Now! If you will, recount the events that transpired."

* * *

"Let us review the rules of the duel," The Champion of Cyrodiil announced.

A crowd of nobles huddled in a circular formation around the two combatants. Louise de la Vallière and Guiche de Gramont.

The pink-haired mage seemed a bit squeamish, and she fiddled around with her wand. Louise held anxieties over her spell succession rate, which was zero percent, that was until she resurrected her familiar. That thought alone, that she held the capacity to conjure magic was enough confidence for her to work with.

The other mage was a blond casanova. He gleamed his eyes around the crowd, checking to see if any  _fine_  ladies were observing his duel. Guiche knew that this would have a negative impact on his reputation, whether he lost to Louise the Zero or won violently, he knew that many would gossip behind his back regardless of the result.

"Enough commoner, we both know how to due-" Guiche stated how redundant it was to gloss over the rules.

"Fool! Rules are rules, regardless if you want to hear them or not, it's a required formality, it also helps spectators spot a cheater," The Champion of Cyrodiil interrupted. He acted as a moderator, establishing the rules and carefully observing the match.

"Watch your tongue commoner, less I take it from you," Guiche threatened the commoner who has bad mouthed him for the second time.

The moderator decided to not even give the threat the attention Guiche seeked, nor the reaction Guiche thought he deserved. So he moved on with the formalities of a duel.

"This duel held in Vestri Court, it is a match between two nobles. On my left is Louise de la Valliere, on my right is Guiche de Gramont," this wasn't the first match that the Champion of Cyrodiil moderated, his voice boomed to the combatants and the crowd of nobles. "The rules are simple, the first person to yield or be rendered unconscious will forfeit the match, therefore losing the duel."

"I will be your moderator today, you may refer to me as…" The Champion of Cyrodiil hesitated for a moment, thinking about the name that eludes him. After some quick thinking and a useful title, he filled in the sudden pause. "Sheogorath."

* * *

"Hold on a moment," Sir Osmond interrupted the story. So far he's been hearing both perspectives of the story, cutting away personal bias and filling it in with factual information. He was creating a clear story inside of his mind.

"Who is Sheogorath?" Sir Osmond queried.

This brought a mix of confusion to both of their eyes. Guiche seemed a bit hazy about the answer, while Louise had eyes that seemed unsure rather than hazy.

"Now that you mention it, Louise mentioned something about him being her familiar, I only assumed he was a commoner," Guiche admitted, cupping his chin with his hand. "He dressed like one, he talked like one, and he-"

"That's enough out of you," the man in question startled the blond noble. He grasped Guiche's shoulder with his right hand. "I am Sheogorath, and you are?"

"I am Sir Osmond, headmaster of Tristain Academy of Magic," the old man rushed through the formalities to get to the core of the issue. He then repeated his question, since he wasn't satisfied with the original answer. "Who are you?"

"I am the one summoned by Louise," The Champion of Cyrodiil explained simply. The man utilized his title as a placeholder, as his real name is forgotten by time at the moment.

"So you are Miss Valliere's familiar?" the old man asked in a daze. He wasn't prepared to hear that. He had enough issues on his plate at the moment, a human familiar was another ordeal for another day.

"No, I am not, although she has my respect as my equal," there was a glint in his eyes as he gazed at Louise for a moment.

"I do not understand, how can you be summoned by a mage, yet, not be a familiar?" Sir Osmond posed his new question, pursing his lips as he awaited their reply.

"Anyone can summon a familiar, I on the other hand, never complied to become a familiar," The Champion of Cyrodiil confessed. He never agreed to serve someone, why should he? What kind of incentive could this young mage provide?

"Compliance or not, what determines a familiar is the runes engraved from the Springtime Familiar Summoning," Sir Osmond motioned for the champion to come closer to his desk. To which he grasped both of his hands, checking them for any indication of the contract being sealed.

"Aha!" the old man let his revelation known. "This is the mark of your servitude."

The Champion of Cyrodiil glanced at the daedric runes seared into his hand.

"It may be a mark, but it is against my will. She may try to control me, but be assured I am no pushover," the man said with gusto.

"You certainly are a defiant man, are you not?" the old man inquired with a small chuckle.

"I've offered challenges for Louise to overcome, to have an opportunity to become my master, although it's a long journey to hold the reigns to my will."

Sir Osmond drummed his fingers across his desk. It rolled in a methodical pattern, maintaining a firm beat.

"What sorts of challenges did you offer?" Osmond had a grievous feeling in the pits of his stomach, that these challenges were connected to the duel today.

"Just two simple challenges," the champion rose two fingers in the air. "One, to prove her worth," one of the fingers descended to the palm. "Two, beat me in combat."

Sir Osmond grasped his tobacco pipe, conjuring a fire-typed spell to ignite the stress relieving leaves. Osmond took two deep hits from his pipe, earning large, billowing clouds of smoke.

The old man had a better understanding of the situation now. This duel was much more than a trivial fight over the mistreatment of a servant. Well, for one side atleast. Guiche had nothing to justify his participation in the fight, besides the fact he was called a 'bad name'. Louise on the other hand had to seek out an opportunity to fight someone, even if that meant that she had to antagonize them to fight and break a few rules.

By no means does this justify her reason to seek out and perform a duel on academy grounds. But it gave Sir Osmond a better understanding of the situation, and what factors lead up to the event.

Sir Osmond waved his hand, motioning for both of the perpetrators to continue on with their story. While taking another deep puff from his pipe.

* * *

"LET THE DUEL COMMENCE!" The Champion of Cyrodiil yelled at the top of his lungs.

Guiche flaunted his wand which was designed as a rose, truly a symbolic mark of his flamboyant nature. Guiche closed his eyes before casting a quiet incantation. A singular red petal cascaded through the air, making contact with the ground and causing the petal to glow intensely before sinking into the ground. A glowing circle of light manifested from the ground.

From the spot the rose petal landed rose an armored suit in the circle of light, its eyes were painted white with black slits. Two wing like feathers were on both sides of the helmet. The suit of armor held a spear by it's side, and it had no sentient presence.

"Whoa! Guiche that's cheating! Unfair!" Louise shrieked her disagreement with his summoning.

"Life is not fair, Louise," Guiche had a smug smile plastered on his face. "The rules only stated that we must have our opponent yield or rendered unconscious, it never stated the means of reaching that goal."

The two combatants were ten paces away from one another. The wind seemed to be dead for a moment and everyone stood quietly.

"Charge, my Valkyrie," Guiche gave an audible order to his golem.

The Champion of Cyrodiil was impressed with Guiche. Summoning a metal golem was no easy task. An atronach is a construct of a singular substance. A golem and atronach were one of the same, although a notable difference from what he could see, is that an atronach has some sort of sentience, while this manmade golem is lacking that spark of life. Nevertheless, it's still rather impressive to see a metal golem in person as the only metal golems he could think of were Dwarven Automatons.

The Valkyrie sprinted far faster than Louise could have imagined. It cleared the ten paces between them in an instant. Before she could have a chance to react, a spear was jabbed against her stomach. Luckily, saliva erupted from her mouth, not blood.

The metal golem jumped back to keep the distance between them.

Louise dropped to the ground on her knees, as she held her stomach in pain. No blood greeted her as there was only a bruise on her stomach.

"Worry not Louise," Guiche began to  _comfort_  her. "The spear has no point, instead it is just a blunt weapon."

Louise rose in anguish, as the pain was still fresh. Her face contorted as she managed to keep her posture straight standing up.

"If you want, you may call off the duel and admit defeat," Guiche fashioned a twisted grin. "You were lucky that the spear was dull, you would have been dead where you stand."

"No."

"What?" Guiche cupped his hand near his ear, attempting to strain his ear more to hear her answer again.

"No. Guiche. I. Will. Not. Fail."

Determination was burning in her eyes. A wild beast was uncaged from its dormant life to fight.

Louise held her wand into the air. The wand was wooden and engraved with ancient symbols and carved by Valliere artists. It was pointed straight at Guiche's construct.

Louise performed a nice trick, she made a Valkyrie disappear.

**Spell of Fireball**

The Valkyrie stood still for a moment. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the inevitable result. The metal of the construct began to malform and bubble before the delayed reaction took effect, a mushroom cloud explosion detonated on the Valkyrie.

Not a single trace of the Valkyrie existed after that.

Guiche let out an egotistical smile before laughing hysterically.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"What's so funny?" Louise stressed every word with deep breaths.

"You couldn't even cast a simple spell!" Guiche clutched his stomach from laughing to hard, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

The blond casanova finally stopped laughing after a couple of minutes, taking a few short breaths to recuperate. "Here."

Two petals began to swing towards the ground, disappearing into the grass and creating circles of light. Two more Valkyries were created from Guiche, both were more detailed with a not so dull spear.

"Charge," Guiche's eyes seemed more, lethal, this time around.

The two Valkyries left a trail in a double helix formation.

Louise was ready this time, her wand was pointed at one of the two Valkyries. She announced her spell one more time, hoping for a different result. Truly, madness.

**Spell of Fire Ball**

This time it didn't even give Louise a response, there was no effect to her action. It caused Louise a moment of panic when even her spell explosion failed her as well.

The moderator sighed, he knew the answer to the mystery at hand. Louise put forth all of her magicka well that she draws upon to conjure a magical effect. She didn't have enough Willpower to regenerate her magicka well in time.

Both of the Valkyries stabbed Louise. The spears crossed over one another to stab both shoulders. Each shoulder stained her clothes with blood, the spears were sharper than before.

"ARRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!" Louise screamed in pain.

The smell of iron filled the air, as crimson dripped from the two spear heads.

"Do you yield yet?" Guiche inquired with a sadistic grin.

"NO." Louise clenched her teeth in pain, and decided now was the time to reveal the ace up her sleeve.

The Valkyries withdrew their weapons, temporarily making contact with both spears as they retracted from Louise's flesh.

Louise in her spite of anger and anguish, lifted her wand and aimed it at their weapons. She didn't need to say these words but she did it out of reflex.

**Spell of Lightning Bolt**

For a half second, everyone cracked a smile and was prepared to laugh. But a full second later, streaks of lightning burst from her wand and lunged at the two bronze weapons that made contact with one another. Although bronze isn't the greatest conductor of electricity, the intensity of the spell was enough to melt not only the weapons, but the Valkyries to the point of being immobile. Their joints fused together and their figures became distorted.

The moderator couldn't help but crack a grin, she may have depleted her magicka well but she was resourceful enough to use the scroll she pilfered from the drunken mudcrab. What made him proud was that she used a scroll, and thought of its proper name, while dubbing it by a different name verbally. Giving her the image that she could use magic. Smart.

* * *

**Kaff! Kaff! - Kaff! Kaff!**

Osmond began to choke on his smoke. A burning sensation encompassed his throat as he attempted to comprehend what he just heard.

"You-Kaff!-Did-Kaff!-What?!" Sir Osmond could barely speak.

"You heard right," The Champion of Cyrodiil asserted. "Little Louise over here conjured lightning."

"Is that...bad?" Louise queried squeamish.

"No, its astounding!" Sir Osmond wheezed heavily.

**Kaff! Kaff! - Kaff! Kaff!**

"Manipulating lightning -Kaff!-Kaff!- is unheard of, the element of Void-Kaff!-Kaff!-was manipulated more than lightning!" Sir Osmond waved the staff by his side.

**Spell of Levitation**

A pitcher of water and a glass began to float towards the Headmaster. The moment it approached his desk, he grasped both items from their levitated states and poured a glass of water for himself. Gulping down water with great haste, then sighing with blissful relief.

"The problem is, you are the only mage to control the element of lightning. There is no teacher or mage in Tristain that could teach you," Sir Osmond confessed, his sorrow leaking through his voice. The inability to teach a student is the greatest failure of any teacher or headmaster. "By Founder's name, we do not know if lightning is an element in itself or a combination of multiple elements."

"Well," Louise glanced at The Champion of Cyrodiil, then glanced back at Sir Osmond. "Saying I'm the only mage that can control lightning is an incorrect statement."

Osmond nearly choked on his water. He became more attentive and gazed at Louise, attempting to understand what she was leading at. "What do you mean, Miss Valliere?"

"Louise, I can believe, that you can use that type of magic now. But there is no way that anyone else coul-" Guiche voiced his disbelief.

"Mr Gramont! Be silent!" Osmond interrupted. "What do you mean, Miss Valliere?"

"My familiar is well versed in magic," Louise admitted.

Osmond stood still for a moment, as did Guiche.

…

"What?" Both Osmond and Guiche began to stare at The Champion of Cyrodiil.

"It makes sense that a familiar represents the affinity of the mage," Sir Osmond reasoned. "Although it does not solve the perplexing issue of someone teaching you the element of lightning."

"Actually," the champion voiced his concern. "I was previously Archmage."

"A-an Archmage?" Headmaster Osmond's jaw nearly dropped when he heard that word. "We do not have such a title, what is an...Archmage."

Osmond knew nothing about the title of an Archmage, although going by the etymology of the word, which means chief; principle. Then he could assume that it meant he was the chief of mages, the best of the best. Although, there was no equivalent of the word in Tristain, nor was there a rank similar to it.

"I have been summoned from a different world," he clarified his situation before the explanation. "In my world, there is an organization dedicated to collecting, preserving and distributing magical information. This organization is called The Mage's Guild, and its highest position is that of the Archmage. The responsibilities I held while in this position, was making critical decisions for the guild's future, research and development of spells, guiding students, and most importantly," he closed his eyes for a moment, before letting his voice die. "Paperwork."

"Hoho!" Old man Osmond chuckled at the description of his position. "Sounds exactly like my position as Headmaster of Tristain Academy. Especially the paperwork, so much paperwork."

"The similarities are eerie," The Champion of Cyrodiil confessed. "Our positions are more then likely similar, although the Mage's Guild spreads across my province of Cyrodiil. Entrance into my Arcane University requires recommendations from seven different Mage's Guild. The Arcane University is a prestigious academy which only molds the best of the best."

"Seven recommendations!" Osmond nearly had a heart attack. His academy was also prestigious but it doesn't require such a ludicrous prerequisites for entry. All that was required to attend Tristain Academy of Magic was to simply be born a noble and have the incentive to learn and improve.

"We don't accept anybody, you must prove yourself. Of course that doesn't mean we're withholding information from the public. Any local mage's guild can recruit and train any initiate, although entry in the Arcane University requires diligence and willpower."

Sir Osmond quickly realized that he was being sidetracked, there was a time and a place for understanding a new world, but the issue of the matter is a dispute on academy grounds. Although, before getting to the issue, he needed to address one more issue.

"What makes you an Archmage?" Osmond inquired. He hasn't shown any extraordinary ability for the arcane arts.

The Champion of Cyrodiil was a firm believer of 'Actions Speak Louder Than Words.'

He  _could've_  equipped a minor spell version of lightning bolt giving the impression that he knows an unknown element. He  _could've_  conjured an atronach to disprove the fact he was a familiar. He  _could've_  even chopped his arm off and use the spell of heal legendary wounds to regenerate a new limb.

No. He didn't. Osmond questioned what makes  _him_  an Archmage and he was more than willing to show him. The spell he had in mind wasn't a master-tier spell, just a simple adept-tier spell. But, the spell would be the most impressive spell to showcase in a non-hostile environment.

The spell came to mind.

**Lightning Cloak**

**Rizzzz-Rizzzz-Rizzzz-Rizzzz**

A low pitched electrical hum filled the room with unease. Streaks of white tendrils wrapped around The Champion of Cyrodiil entire frame. Sparks of electricity would manifest then dissolve instantly. An aurora of purple and black shrouded him, as the tendrils of light flickered faster than a blink of the eye. Sparks of electricity would shoot from his frame in various directions, but all of the lightning would wrap around him, like a cloak.

His eyes were completely focused on the Headmaster, Sir Osmond was completely stunned. He had no idea what to say, not only was Louise utilizing a previously unknown element, but her familiar was wearing it like a cloak. The type of mastery to bend such a destructive force without hurting yourself was a title above master. This man was indeed an Archmage.

"Oh Founder," Sir Osmond was at a loss for words, wearing an element as a cloak is one of the most difficult tasks for a mage to perform.

Guiche, was not as stunned as he was scared. He still has post traumatic stress disorder from what Louise did to him. He crawled to the corner of the room to avoid being shocked. He felt the bandaged part of his face and a phantom pain flared. His bandaged eye was twitching.

"My...eye…" Guiche broke his calm facade, in truth, he's been terrified of Louise the moment he entered the room with her. Because of their duel, he lost an important piece of him.

"O-osmond...we have not reached the climax of the story," Guiche spoke in a sinister tone as a shadow encompassed half of his face.

"..." Sir Osmond thought intensely about what he just witnessed. Many scenarios and outcomes manifested inside of his mind. He needed time to think, so this golden opportunity was perfect for him. "Please regale and finish this tale."

* * *

**Huh-Phoo Huh-Phoo Huh-Phoo Huh-Phoo**

Guiche had streams of sweat racing down his flushed face. He lost himself in hyperventilation, panic held the flamboyant mage in a tight grip. Never in his life did he expect, Louise the Zero to bend lightning to her will.

The crowd of nobles murmured to one another, they gossiped, sharing their thoughts and ideas.

"How could Louise the Zero control lightning?!" one of them said.

"I'm wondering what kind of element Lightning is apart of?" another said.

"I'm thinking that this is just a parlor trick, she's not really controlling lightning," the last one said.

"Y-y-you…" he could barely speak a word. "CHEATER!"

Louise took a few deep breaths before striding towards her opponent. "Life is not fair, Guiche."

She stopped for a moment and thought and chuckled. "I believe you were the one to say. 'The rules only stated that we must have our opponent yield or rendered unconscious, it never stated the means of reaching that goal.'"

The pink-haired mage uncovered a waterskin that she's hid under cloak. The Champion of Cyrodiil was honestly curious what she had planning in that twisted little mind of hers.

"S-s-s-s-stay a-away!" Guiche stuttered his words, lashing his wand around, causing petals to fall to the ground.

Nine circles of light manifested on the grass. Rising from them were nine armored Valkyries, each one held extremely sharp spears. As they ascended into existence, they waited patiently to hear their order.

Louise halted in the meantime, pouring the waterskin on the grass and extending the puddle into a rather large length. It glistened in the grass, while half of the water she poured was absorbed into the soil. She then backed away from the puddle.

"CHARGE!" his order came out violently.

This time Guiche spread himself thin, he was operating too many Valkyries at once. Causing them to have slower movements and speed.

The Valkyries sprinted towards their target, their spears readied to kill. As they ran, Louise pointed her wand, yet she didn't say a word for a few moments. The golem blitzkrieg would halt for no one. The moderator was considering to stop the duel, but it was Louise's unique actions that made his curiosity peak and he held his tongue. It wasn't until the Valkyries stepped into the puddle that it clicked.

**Spell of Lightning Bolt**

**Rizzzz-Rizzzz-Rizzzz-Rizzzz**

The crackle of lightning filled everyone's ears with heavy dread. The water conducted the electricity, melting the bronze feet and legs of the Valkyries. A blinding light shone and sparks flew from the puddle of water, traveling through the entire frame of the Valkyries. The golem blitzkrieg was immobilized, although the Valkyries were still responsive, they just couldn't follow any orders with no legs.

The moderator was shocked. He was impressed that Louise thought this far ahead, not to mention she was resourceful and more smart than he could have ever imagined. In this single action, she has easily earned his respect.

Louise walked around the legless Valkyries, eventually she began walking towards her opponent once more.

Guiche had a puddle of urine stained on his crotch, in a moment of hysteria he used his last petal on his wand to conjure one more thing.

The last petal fell gently into the ground, a bright light shone and a sword constructed itself from the petal.

Guiche grasped the sword and aimed it at Louise. "S-stop where you are! I'm warning you!"

"Guiche, do you yield?" Louise questioned. She would stop her havok if he admitted defeat.

Guiche thought about the repercussions of his actions. If he didn't yield, he may die. On the other hand, if he did yield he would tarnish his family name and his peers would mock him to no end.

"Death would be more preferable!" Guiche made his ending thought audible. He may have sounded convicted through his voice, but his body language said the very opposite.

"As you wish," her words sent a chill down Guiche's spine. He began to charge, with no skill in the way he handled his sword. He slashed his sword in the air with his eyes closed.

Louise aimed her wand and thought of the name of her last scroll. She was silent as an electrical charge leapt from her wand towards Guiche.

Guiche couldn't keep his eyes closed, he widened both of his eyes when he heard that demented crackle of lightning. His eye saw the bolt, but he couldn't react to it. That very bolt penetrated his eye, causing it to rupture.

"ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!" Guiche shrieked in agony. Dropping to the ground like a puppet whose strings were cut. The moderator approached the blond mage and checked his vitals.

"He's not dead."

Louise sighed in relief, she had no intent to hit his eye nor kill him.

"Louise de la Valliere is declared the winner of this duel."

* * *

"Your eye was destroyed," Osmond queried with beads of sweat racing down his forehead.

"Yes, I can't see out of my left eye anymore," tears of blood soaked through Guiche's bandages. His left eye would twitch and phantom pain would follow. "The nurse tried to heal it, but there was nothing water magic could do to save my eye."

Sir Osmond only had one option to follow through with, since this new information arose.

"I'm sorry Miss Valliere, since you caused irreversible damage to your peer than I'll have no choice but to expel you," Sir Osmond didn't want to do this, he truly didn't. The chance to learn about a new element was too tantalizing.

Louise didn't know what to say, if she wasn't be able to attend the academy anymore, she would bring so much shame and dishonor to her family. Sorrow enveloped her very being.

"So, Louise is being expelled because she caused irreversible damage to her peer?" The Champion of Cyrodiil reiterated the cause for the action, only to receive a nod from Osmond. "So, hypothetically, if the wound was healed, would you reconsider your decision?"

Osmond was unsure what the man was leading at, but his way of thinking was correct. "Of course I would."

"Thought so," The Champion of Cyrodiil walked towards Guiche. His shroud of lightning still dressed him like a cloak.

Guiche began to crawl closer and closer to the corner of the wall, as far away as possible from Louise's familiar. Osmond thought about intervening but he allowed him to approach his student, his curiosity was perked.

"No-no-no-no!" Guiche screamed his disapproval.

"Don't worry, you fought as well as typical noble could," he got close to the young noble, then extended his open palm toward the injured man.

"NO! I'm not ready to die!" Guiche thought the worst, his end was at hand.

**Heal Allies Legendary Wounds**

_Restore Health for 30 points for 6 seconds on target._

A yellow orb manifested in his open palm, and shot towards Guiche's injured eye. The blond mage yelped in anticipated pain before a warmth took hold of his injury.

Guiche ripped off his bandage, and everyone saw the incredible magic taking hold of his eye.

His eye was deflated and an opening was visible, crimson fluids gushed from his eye. Blackened skin surrounded the eye and red flesh was visible around the black skin. The amazing thing was that the eye began to reconstruct itself, the eye's hole sowed itself up with white flesh, the blue iris was building up from the white flesh. After six seconds, his eye was a little red and glazed but it was functioning once more.

Guiche blinked his eye a couple of times before a smile grew on his face.

"By Founder Brimir…" Sir Osmond could only say his lord's name.

"What sort of punishment will you consider for Louise in substitute for expulsion," the healer asked.

Sir Osmond needed to give some kind of penalty for dueling on academy grounds. Though he wasn't sure what would be proper, but he knew that he had to keep Louise at the academy at all costs.

"Very well. Miss Valliere, Mr Gramont, you are both suspended for a month. be thankful that you will be back before the Familiar Exhibition," Osmond gave mercy on both of the duel participants. Considering the usual consequence was expulsion.

"Thank you," all three people in the room said in unison.

* * *

"Are you being serious?!" Louise squealed in joy, her worries of suspension was replaced with uncontainable joy.

"Yes, Louise, I'm willing to train you," The Champion of Cyrodiil asserted. "You showed your worth to me, I see your potential and I'm willing to mold you into the greatest mage in Tristain." the champion fiddled around with his golden ring, he enchanted the item himself.

The ring was given to him by a representative of Cyrodiil, acting on the behalf of the entire populace.

It has an inscription that read, 'He who saves a single soul , saves the world entire.' The moment he received it was the first time he ever cried, it was a heartfelt moment. The enchantment he gave it was the strongest enchantment an item has ever endured while keeping its form.

It was only three enchantments.

Fortify Strength 100 points.

Banish Daedra on Touch

And a the hardest enchantment of them all.

The power to Summon a Lich once a week.

It took him a decade to prepare this enchantment, and it took many failed experiments and many tarnished golden rings. Many of his colleges said it was impossible and that he would go mad attempting to enchant this ring with those perimeters. Little did they know they were right, the god of insanity would a come a calling for him, fulfilling his wish.

It was his pride and joy. He named it, The Band of Humanity.

"Ah~" she couldn't make any words, she just squealed even more.

They were both traversing the halls of the academy, approaching Louise's room to pack up to leave on suspension and also train with her soon to be familiar.

"Don't get too excited, we have to assess what kind of training you'll be going through," he admitted.

"Hello!" a woman practically yelled with her eyes closed shut.

A brunette maid stood near Louise's room with a nervous expression plastered on her face. She wore a maid's outfit and her hair was above shoulder length. Her dim blue eyes began to travel up and down the champion.

"Hello?" the champion was confused by the abrupt introduction. "How may we help you?"

"No need to," Louise informed the champion. "She's a commoner, a servant at that, at most she wants to know how she may help us."

"Really?" the champion was still becoming accustomed to the weird traditions and customs of this new world. It was similar to his own world but there were distinct differences. "What brings you to us?"

"I wanted to thank both of you," she clasped the hands of the champion, shaking it with vigor. She withdrew her hands, making the champion feel weaker, he thought it must have been his heart fluttering from praise. She also went over to Louise and bowed in thanks for her help.

"What did we do?" Louise questioned, the woman was a brunette maid. Why would she be thanking both of them.

"Thanks to both of you I still have my job, after Mr. Gramont tried to fire me," her face began to blush deep shades of red. "My name is Siesta."

"No worries, Siesta," the champion waved off the praise, while Louise just gave a smug nod to the woman.

"By the by, Siesta, why did Guiche throw a fit?" the champion queried.

Siesta then blushed to the color of crimson, her face was practically steaming.

"I-Um-Alright, I accidently stole Mr. Gramont's cologne," Siesta confessed to her crime.

"Is that so?" the champion queried with incredible confusion.

Siesta waved her hands in the air. "It's not what you think-"

"How is it not," Louise interrupted. "We defended a rightful criminal that should have been punished," the hypocrisy was rich coming from the woman who stole the scrolls.

"I'M SORRY!" Siesta attempted to apologize. "I don't steal because I want to, I steal because I have to, I'm a kleptomaniac cursed with kleptophobia."

"Huh?" the champion was honestly confused.

"I have an insatiable urge to steal, but I find stealing morally wrong. I just have trouble giving back what I stole. It's always awkward and people usually hate me afterwards," Siesta expressed her woes to her saviors.

"So you tried to give the cologne back to Guiche?" the champion queried.

"Yeah, I tried, but he denied that he owned the cologne. Next thing I knew, I was in the middle of a love triangle and the two girls involved smacked Guiche."

The Champion of Cyrodiil cupped his hand around his chin, processing the information that was shoved in front of him. Till a dreadful revelation made itself known when he felt his weakness and noticed his hand that was too soft. He glanced at his fingers, then gazed at Siesta with an awestruck face.

"You-you stole my ring…" he didn't know how to feel. The diversion she used wasn't anything special, but the fact that she slid off a ring off his finger without him noticing was a feat that deserved praise.

He was known as the Gray Fox. He was a pupil of the original Gray Fox, a man of legend responsible for the greatest thefts known to man. Stealing was more than a hobby, it was an art that he perfected.

Stealing from the pupil of the Gray Fox was an incredible feat.

"How. Dare. You."

Louise was about to pop her top, her anger was radiating off of her.

"IF YOU THOUGHT GUICHE WAS GOING TO GET YOU FIRED, THEN YOU HAVE ANOTHER THING COMING FOR Y-"

The Champion of Cyrodiil held up his hand, interrupting Louise's rant of punishment.

"You stole my ring…" he couldn't do anything, besides repeat himself in astonishment.

"I'm so sorry, here have it back," she held The Band of Humanity in her palm. Her tongue was stuck out in a goofy fashion that could only be described as cute from many different people.

The Champion lept towards the maid and held the maid from the midsection of her back, letting his other hand travel around her body as he drew her closer.

"W-w-w-w-what are you d-d-doing?!" Louise couldn't speak from the abnormal behavior in front of her.

"Siesta…" he said softly, his face glowed with the warmth and hearth of a fireplace.

"Sir?" she said with a confused face, blushing with various shades of red.

The champion leaned in closer, whispering into her ear.

"You're pretty impressive."

"T-thank you," she stuttered at the compliment.

"Although you have to improve," the champion stated while letting go of the maid and giving her some distance.

"What?" Siesta was honestly confused by the statement.

"Here."

The champion unveiled a myriad of different items that struck a sense of familiarity with Siesta. He had her orange scarf, her pendant, her coin purse, two personal letters, and last but not least, her bra.

He stole it all in less than a minute.

"W-W-W-WHA-HOW-WHERE DID HER BRA COME FROM!" Louise shrieked in shock that he managed to steal her underclothing without anyone knowing.

"Oh, that's a good trick," Siesta opened her mouth in surprise. "Here."

She then smiled and handed a weapon back to the champion which also struck a sense of familiarity with him.

Duskfang.

"Oh. Oh you're good," he was so busy setting a distraction and pickpocketing the maid that he didn't notice that she too was pilfering him. "Siesta!"

"Yes!" she grasped her items back.

"You're coming with us, you've proven your worth to me," the champion announced his decision.

"What?! You're bringing a commoner?" Louise voiced her complaint.

"Where am I going?!" Siesta had no idea what was going on.

"I'm going to train both of you for a month, pack your things," The Champion of Cyrodiil elaborated.

"What could you train me in?" Siesta was confused on what she could excel at.

"I see a master thief when I see one," the champion replied. "I'm going to make you the greatest thief in Tristain."

He rephrased with plans with Siesta in Louise's place.

"Wait! I thought you were going to train me to be the greatest mage in Tristain?!" Louise bellowed in irritation.

"I can do both," the champion defended himself.

"Hang on one second," Siesta stated. "I have a job, even if I wanted to go, I couldn't."

"Ha!" he let out a curt laugh before opening the door to Louise's room.

The man then went over to Louise's writing desk, grabbing a piece of parchment, a quill and an inkwell. He began to write hastily, before finishing off the message with his signature. He folded the message into an envelope, then he grabbed a wax stamp and equipped a Fireball spell, the spell radiated heat towards the wax stamp and sealed the envelope. Finishing the process with a good stamp.

"Here, deliver this message to Sir Osmond and pack your things, we leave at dawn."

Siesta nodded and held onto the envelope, opening the door and disappearing into the hallways.

"I can not believe you invited a commoner to come with us," Louise growled.

"You need a good partner, you two would make an excellent team," the champion stated.

"You are the only partner I need!" she yelled in frustration.

"I'm a mentor," he explained. "I won't be your partner until you can beat me in a duel."

"By Founder Brimir!" she rubbed her face in irritation.

"Pack your things, we leave at dawn."

* * *

Sir Osmond rubbed the temples of his head. He didn't expect to uncover a new element by investigating a duel.

Not to mention Louise's familiar became a person of interest to the old man, he may be an important figure to discover the mass episodes of memory loss during the Springtime Familiar Summoning. The anomaly still plagued his mind, even a week after the incident, he couldn't shake off a gut feeling that something was very wrong.

Jean Colbert, the teacher involved with supervising the Springtime Familiar Summoning made an enormous discovery and shared that information with Sir Osmond immediately. That information still held Sir Osmond's mind in a shroud of thoughts.

Goriaada.

That was one of the Mythical Six, Founder Brimir's familiars that drove most of the elves in hiding and a majority of the fiercest elves were forced to migrate to a subterranean life.

Goriaada was a very special familiar, basically Founder Brimir's right hand man, the most brilliant tactician there ever was. He was a symbol of sanity and order.

Miss Longueville entered shortly after Mr. Colbert finished relaying the information he unearthed, saying that he would research more into Goriaada.

His secretary was scribbling parchment and filing paperwork when there was a knock on the door.

**Dunk-Dunk-Dunk**

Miss Longueville answered the call, and opened the door. To her surprise it was a maid. Servants tend to stay away from noble areas as tradition would dictate that a servant shouldn't disturb a noble unless there is good reason to do so.

"What business do you have?" Miss Longueville queried.

"I have a letter to deliver to Sir Osmond," she said with a simple bow.

Miss Longueville raised an eyebrow, as a maid's job didn't include delivering letters, that job was for messengers.

She let the maid come in, and Siesta walked towards the sequoia desk. She placed the letter on the table, and Osmond quickly snatched it off the table.

His first observation was that the wax stamp had the symbol of the Valliere family. That was enough to peek Sir Osmond's interest. He cut the letter open and began reading it, beads of sweat raced down his head, and he could only say one thing.

"What?!"

The old man nearly had a stroke. The letter's content was too good to be true, but he was willing to take that risk.

His eyes began to twitch when he gazed at the maid, he developed bad cotton mouth in a matter of seconds.

"What's your name ma'am?" Sir Osmond inquired.

"Siesta, sir," she held up her bell shaped skirt with a curt bow.

"Siesta, pack your things, you're going on paid vacation," Sir Osmond made a hand motion to shoo her off.

Her face was in shock, as she didn't expect it to be that easy to just leave. She left with haste, she needed to pack her things for the tomorrow.

As she left, Miss Longueville gave a confused look at Osmond, wondering why he was freaking out.

"What's wrong with you Old man Osmond?" Miss Longueville questioned.

"25 pounds," he said softly.

"25 pounds of what?" she asked hesitantly.

"25 POUNDS OF GOLD! FOR A PAID VACATION!" the old man yelled his reasoning with joy.

"W-what?!" she was aware that nobles had money to burn, but that's an absurd amount.

"Hohoohoohoo!" Sir Osmond lit his tobacco pipe and smoked with the epitome of joy. "Life has it's ups and downs."

* * *

"It's a little much don't you think?" the champion asked.

"What?! This is a light load!" Louise defended herself.

"But still, two carriages worth of luggage is too much Louise." he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "We may be going for a month, but you can only bring what you can carry."

"Hmmph!" the pink-haired mage crossed her arms and turned her back to him. "Fine!"

She got a small crowd of servants to unpack the carriage and had the spare carriage leave. After a half an hour of nitpicking she gathered all the necessities she would require.

"Happy?" Louise had only two suitcases and a cage with a carrier pigeon.

"Very."

A single carriage was near the gate of Tristain Academy of Magic. The horse guiding the carriage neighed and yawned. The sun attempted to crawl over the large walls from their point of view. Auburn sunlight dyed the landscape, and the trees waved from the breeze of the gentle wind. Today was an excellent day for a journey.

"I'm here!" Siesta was running towards the carriage. She held one suitcase in hand.

Louise rolled her eyes and let out a sound of irritation by the mere sight of the commoner.

Siesta wore her normal clothes instead of her maid clothes. She wore a simple green shirt. While Louise and The Champion of Cyrodiil wore their usual clothes. A black cloak, with a white blouse and a gray pleated skirt. And a red and purple striped attire.

Siesta packed her luggage and gave a reassuring smile.

The champion looked around one final time and took a deep breath, it has been awhile since he stretched his legs.

"Alright, let's get a move on."

They traveled for half a day on carriage till they reached a nearby village. A servant guided the carriage with ease as it came to a complete stop. The champion and the ladies exited from the carriage stretching their stiffness out.

A tavern was near the carriage, causing the adventurer in the champion to smile like a little kid. If he learned one thing about exploring new lands, is that taverns had all information anyone needed to know about anything. He told the ladies to stay put while he would talk to some people. By the look Louise was giving him, it seemed like she had the wrong impression of what he would do in the tavern. A scolding look for a crime he hasn't even done...yet.

He entered the tavern, and he wasn't surprised by what he saw. There were faces of people who drank their lives away while others had stress induced faces that needed a break from life. There were a few people at the stools near the bar while a couple of others occupied some booths.

The champion approached the owner of the tavern, she tended the bar while serving a few drinks to regular patrons.

"Excuse me ma'am," he began to say.

"Yes sir, welcome to The Goat's Hall, how may I help you today," she greeted with a friendly smile.

"I'm wanting to hear some rumors," he explained. He placed a gold piece on the table, it was a Tiber Septim but gold was gold.

She moved the coin under the table, then placed both of her elbows on the table while holding her chin with the back of her hands.

"What kind of rumors are you looking for, honey?" she asked with a seductive tone.

"Is there any difficult jobs people have been passing up," he inquired.

"Now that you say it honey, there is this one job that no one has been able to complete, they either die trying or run with their tail between their legs," the question helped spur her memory.

"What's the job and how much is the pay?" he knew the procedure, there wasn't a job too hard for him but ignorance was the greatest weakness of an adventurer.

"There is a fort called Fort Mercer, not too far from her. It's a ten minute walk, north-east from here to get to the fort. It's occupied by bandits and they raid nearby villages. They want somebody to get rid of the bandits, so they're willing to pay 750 gold pieces for the job to be done."

"Alright, consider it as good as done," the champion began to leave the tavern, only hearing the owner's final words to him.

"Famous last words."

The champion walked out of the tavern and said simply.

"Alright ladies, grab your supplies, we're walking from here on out."

"What?!" Louise voiced her confusion. "Where are we going, where will we sleep?"

"We're going to earn a place to sleep, let me show ya," the champion bumped his fist on the carriage to indicate to the servant that his job was done. He rode out of town with a cloud of dust trailing behind the carriage.

They traveled through the foliage of the forest, and after ten minutes of walking and whining from the participants in this training, they arrived at the Fort Mercer.

The place was abnormally quiet, if bandits did live out here there were usually people on patrol, that was the typical procedure for any bandit camp. If not, then they would celebrating a party, but there was none to be heard.

"They may be waiting for us."

The champion was no stranger to an ambush, he's had his fair share in his day.

"Ladies, this is Fort Mercer, currently occupied by bandits, we're going to clear the place and claim it as our own," he laid out objectives of traveling out here.

"Bandits!" they both shrieked in unison, they were not expecting to be taking over a fortress today.

"Hide your luggage in the bushes, we're going to have to sneak in, I'll scout out the location, you ladies stay put and hide for the moment."

They were reluctant but neither one wanted to go into a fortress occupied by bandits. So they both hid in the bushes while the champion waltzed on in.

**Chameleon**

_Invisibility for 60 seconds._

The champion was always careful, one false move or step could always result in death.

There were a few traps here and there but a few seconds was all it took to disable them. He explored a variety of rooms, mess halls, and a library. But there was still no sign of enemies.

It wasn't until he passed through an antechamber that he realized where all the bandits were. There were ivory pillars on both sides of the room, tiles of white marble decorated the floor. Rows upon rows of pews lead up to an altar. The pews were scattered everywhere, while crimson stained the ivory and marble. Corpses decorated the room, all severely scarred, the cuts indicated the injury was by sword. All of the bandits were dead, and the one responsible was at the altar. Although he wasn't alive, the weapon he used to murder his comrades was self embedded through his chest and stuck into the wall behind him.

Rays of dim light penetrated the giant room, motes of dust glittered in the air as the champion walked passed the carcasses of many bandits. He ascended up the stairs leading to the altar, and reached for the sword.

The sword drank the blood of the fallen and was stained with crimson. It was a pitch black blade with a red spiral of veins acting as a guard from the hilt down to the pommel, it was a short blade but he knew from the cold touch alone the significance of the blade and its impossible existence.

"How?" the champion didn't understand. He was in a new world, there was no way this weapon could be here.

The Blade of Woe.

It was much larger than when it was a dagger, but this sword had the same design as the original, this was no coincidence.

"How…"

**"I am blessed to see you once more, anew. I have always envisioned your progress, but never did I think you to ascend to godhood."**

"L-lucien Lachance?" he didn't know how this was possible. A single tear was shed from his eye, joy caused the tear.

**"I have returned, Bendu Olo."**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note From Gray Q. Gregory
> 
> If you wish to comment, I will reply.  
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Special Thanks to Jkysler and Surprisingly_Blank
> 
> Until Next Time...


	5. Chapter 4 Fall of Alexandre

Chapter 4 Fall of Alexandre

"Did you do this?" Bendu questioned the sentient sword softly.

On the sword was a piece of metal bolted on the blade near the hilt. It moved and squeaked from years of use and dried blood. The sword was as cold as midnight. To most, the feeling would be considered frightening or unsettling at the least. Bendu on the contrary found it to be comforting, it reminded him of the many years he dedicated to the Dark Brotherhood.

" **No, I did not cause this."**

The bolted metal acted like a jaw, it rattled gently. Even without a body or a facial expression, Bendu could still read his old mentor. Having a conversation with him as a sword was no different if he were to talk to him as a person. Lucien Lachance was a man who embodied his work as an assassin. His body language was as silent as the night, his face dead as a corpse. Bendu could only yield queues about his motives or emotions through the subtle tones of his voice.

" **Do not blame the sword for serving its purpose. Would you arrest a sword for murder? No, the one at fault is the swordsman who utilized the sword for its intended purpose."**

"The man who held you, killed his allies and himself. That is not the work of a sane mind," Bendu walked down from the altar and inspected the carcasses closely. "What happened?"

" **Your words speak the truth. The man who held me fell to a spontaneous madness, slashing every man that crossed his path."**

"Huh," Bendu glanced down at Lucien Lachance, the freezing touch of metal gripped his entire body.

**Detect Enchantment**

_Reveals an item's enchantments._

Usually this spell is used to locate enchanted items within a vicinity, but with a little tweaking Bendu created a different branch of the spell, it allows a user to comprehend what sort of enchantments are encased within an item.

The enchantment showed as followed.

_Perfect Chaos - Chance of 50 points of 75% Fire, 75% Ice, 75% Shock damage to health_

_Fiery Soul Trap - 20 points of Fire Damage to health. Soul Trap for 2 seconds._

_Curse - Those that use this sword for murder will develop a bloodthirst known as the urge. The urge will develop in between long intervals of killing._

"Lucien, you're a cursed blade?" Bendu's statement came out like a question.

" **I know what you are thinking, but do not fret. My curse is not responsible for this massacre; the murderer would have been sated by either his activities as a bandit or killing one of his allies. What he has done today was caused by a burst of insanity. If I were responsible I would give credit where credit is due, dear Listener."**

Listener.

Bendu hasn't heard that title for far too long. It was a very extraordinary title given to a single member of the Dark Brotherhood. It signified an assassin who could hear the whispers of the dark matron, the symbol and foundation of the Dark Brotherhood.

The Night Mother.

The dark matron was the first mortal to hear the void itself, personifying the void with the name of Sithis. Sithis spoke to the Night Mother, he requested an offering and she fulfilled his request, she gave a gracious sacrifice to the Dread Father that we all reunite with at the end of life's journey. The Night Mother sacrificed her five children to the Dread Father, the offering made Sithis content. Sithis then offered the woman to be his wife and head of the Dark Brotherhood, to which she gladly accepted. Unfortunately, the people around her knew the diabolical act she performed to her very own children. So they burned her down along with her house.

People may be able to burn down a figure, but their legacy always lives on. Her whispers reached the mind of a Listener, who followed the Night Mother's order to a T. On the day that the first Listener heard the dark matron's whispers was the day the Dark Brotherhood was established.

Bendu snapped out of his reminiscence of the nostalgic word. "How-How are you here?"

" **Sithis is everywhere, no matter where you may travel, or where you may end up. Sithis is always with you. This world is no different, it had a beginning, and it was named Sithis. As well as a beginning, every world has an end, and that end is also Sithis."**

"Don't dance around my question Lucien Lachance, how are you here...in the form of a sword," Bendu didn't want his mentor's mental gymnastics nor did he want to decipher his enigmatic statements.

" **I lingered in the void, my existence was at the will of Sithis. Then, our Dread Father himself deemed me worthy of rebirth when a mortal made a plea for soul embodied with killer intent. From that day, I was forged in a body of metal and used by a plethora of swordsmen. 6,000 years I've waited for our reunion, and it has finally come."**

"6,000 years!" Bendu may have been an incarnate of insanity at one point in time, but he knew full well that Lucien Lachance died 200 years ago, not 6,000. It was impossible.

" **Time is an inconsequential construct for humanity. Gods and primordial beings live beyond or outside of the constraints of time. It may have felt shorter for you, but I have lived in this world for 6,000 years. Sithis knows no time, when he held me in his cold embrace he gave me an ultimate purpose. I am a sword, my purpose is to kill."**

Bendu nodded in understanding, when he held the mantle of Sheogorath, time was beneath him and only served to track how long he ascended to godhood.

" **I grow tired, speaking after so long has made me weary. Joyous times we will have now that I reunite with you, Bendu Olo, my Listener."**

"It's nice to see you again, old friend," Bendu hasn't seen his mentor in over two hundred years. It pulled at his heart strings to know that a familiar face -sword- has showed up.

The swordsman glanced around the room, it was a massacre. Corpses were scattered everywhere around the large room.

He looked back at the lone carcass on the altar stand. On closer inspection the one responsible for the deaths was the leader of the band of bandits. He wore an extremely expensive ring and an exotic armor that could withstand a barrage of beatings. Although what was so peculiar about the man was his  _exotic_ armor, it was an armor that shouldn't exist. It was the color of a dark gold, it had intricate patterns that you would expect an architect to carve onto a stone wall. The body of the armor had two fairly large shoulder pads and purple cloth draping from the waist down.

It was dwarven armor.

"How in Oblivion…" he had no idea why elven armor from a different world was present here, nor could he formulate an educated guess to how it was possible.

Bendu shook his head, he would think more into the matter when he had more time to himself.

_We need some kind of proof that they died._ Bendu thought to himself. Usually people take his word for his accomplishments because of the fame he garnered after becoming idolized as the Hero of Kvatch. But that was back in his world, in this world he was essentially a nobody. He doubted anyone would take his word for his actions unless he had proof.

Bendu Olo held his sword against the neck of the leader. With one quick slice, the blade serrated the spine and decapitated the head. He held the many locks of black hair and placed the head inside of a small burlap sack. After tying the sack with a rope, he left the corpses for the time being.

The swordsman navigated the halls of the fort with ease, it wasn't his first time exploring the unknown, in fact he has explored so many caves, forts, dungeons and ruins that he makes a mental map of from where he entered to where he ended up.

In a short span of time, he was blinded by the light from the sun as he left the entrance of the Fort Mercer.

With a quick whistle, he attempted to signal to the women that the coast was clear. Unfortunately, he forgot to account for the fact that these women were neophytes when it came to adventuring. He sighed slightly before vocalizing his alert to them.

"No need to worry, you can come out now."

Louise jumped from the bushes first, leaves decorated her clothes and scratches left their marks on her.

While Siesta came out of the bushes with no visible marks or indications that she was in the bushes to begin with.

Louise was first to complain. "I can not believe that you intend for us to clear out a fort filled with bandits!"

To Louise it was asinine, she was a noble expecting a series of training sessions, not to perform a good for the community.

To Siesta, she didn't want to be here to begin with. She had no interest attempting to hone her exemplary thievery, but she held her innate gift in bane. She truly detested the fact that she was a thief but she was compelled to keep doing it.

Although it was unspoken agreement between Bendu and herself that she was required to come along. If she didn't, then she would be blamed from stealing from Guiche and from Louise's familiar.

"No need to, they're all dead," this seemingly shocked the women.

Louise had no doubt that her familiar could clear out a fortress by himself. She had the utmost faith in him. But there was a problem with how quickly he cleared the fortress.

"It has only been ten minutes!"

"I didn't kill them," the swordsman admitted. He gave credit where credit was due. "The leader of the band of bandits did it."

"Where is the leader?" Siesta inquired. it was a natural assumption that the killer wouldn't be applicable to the death count.

"Here," Bendu jiggled a soggy burlap sack.

"Oh."

Both Louise and Siesta left their mouth ajar, they were not expecting him to come out of Fort Mercer with news of everyone's demise, and the leader's head.

"Why?" Louise asked. "Why would he kill his allies?"

"Madness."

Bendu started to walk pass the women and went in the direction of the town they recently left. The women scrambled to grab their luggage as they head back, only to have Bendu raise his hand to signal their halt.

"Don't worry about the luggage, we'll be back for it."

They didn't question him as they made a small jog to catch up with him.

"What are we going to do with 'THAT'?" Louise was at the epitome of confusion, why would her soon to be familiar need the head of the leader.

"When an adventurer commits a good for the community, most would need some sort of proof of their service," Bendu elaborated the need for a human head.

"Most?" Siesta picked up the subtle wording in his explanation.

"Yes. Some adventurers gain such incredible fame that their word is worth its weight in gold," back in Bendu's days, he could've lied about toppling a foreign empire and the news about his lie would be treated as fact, reaching across the entirety of Cyrodiil before the sun set.

"So what will we gain from this?" Louise cut to the core of the matter. In nobility, every action an individual made had to be beneficial to making life easier to that individual. There was no such thing as an act of kindness without a catch in the world of nobility.

"There was a reason I told you girls to leave your luggage at Fort Mercer."

At this point, Bendu remained silent until they reached the pub that he entered earlier.

The woman remained outside as the man walked through the door.

The Goat's Hall.

The first words that reached Bendu's ears was, "Chicken out?"

It came from the owner of The Goat's Hall, she had naturally assumed that the adventurer was a pusillanimous. As it would take a large militia of soldiers with immense skill to take out the bandits in Fort Mercer.

"Funny, it hasn't even been twenty minutes," the owner laughed at the man's assumed cowardice.

Bendu Olo didn't utter a single word, he simply went up to the owner and dropped a soggy burlap sack on the counter. The contents of the bag made a juicy sound.

**SQUEEELSH**

"What...what is that?" the owner was hesitant to unravel the bags content.

"Take a peek, it's a symbol of my cowardice," Bendu said sarcastically with a grin. He pushed the sack closer to the woman who looked pale.

After a few moments of silence, she gulped and undid the rope tying the sack and opened it.

She was speechless as she held the head from both sides. She muttered obscenities under breath, but a stunned look froze on her face.

"...Alexandre Van De Velde…" The owner whispered the man's name. "I finally have your head."

A nearby patron heard the name Alexandre and shifted his head towards the decapitated head.

"Oh no...Oh Founder...How-Why-Am I-No-Wait!" the man didn't know how to articulate himself. The head he was looking at was the man who committed too many atrocities to count.

"ALEXANDRE!" the man stumbled out of his stool in shock. His scene caught the attention of other customers as they gazed upon the head.

"H-HE'S DEAD!" another man stuttered.

"Founder Brimir blessed us this very day!" a woman cried out.

"The tyrant has finally fell!"

"The bastard finally got what he deserved!"

Every customer in The Goat's Hall ran out of the building to spread the news.

"You knew the man?" Bendu knew there was something up. A simple bandit leader couldn't spark such a response out of the locals. This man must have been more than what meets the eye. The owner never stated who sent the request, not even covering the request with the name of the village, Florence.

"Yes, you could say we are all acquainted with the bastard," her voice was envenomed with hatred. "The man was responsible for the raid of Florence a few years back. It was a massacre, they raped and kidnapped women and children, killing the men in town. He killed my family and sold off my sister to some noble."

The owner's hazel eyes grew moist, a turmoil of emotions threatened to break the dams in her eyes. She held the head of the perpetrator who caused her immense anguish. In most cases with real life and fairy tales, when a person craves revenge, it devours them and they make a revelation that they would either spare the one responsible or leave the corpse of the perpetrator far away from their life.

The owner of The Goat's Hall didn't fit into this formula. She had full intent on mounting the skull and keeping it in a place where she could look at it every day. She would savor this moment for the rest of her life.

Her eyes were glued to the decapitated head, as if it contained the answer to life.

"What's your name?" the swordsman interrupted her trance.

"Angeletta Verstraeten, may I have the honors of knowing yours, honey?" her voice was so sweet it could have been mistaken for sugar.

Angeletta Verstraeten was a relatively tall person, she was nearly 182 cm tall (about 6 feet). Her hair was as brown as coffee and it was let loose past her shoulders. She wore a simple apron and blue dress underneath. The feature that made her different from most was a pin sized black mole under her right eye.

"Bendu Olo," the swordsman waved off a formal introduction, he had too many titles to count. "Angeletta, I believe we had an agreement."

"Yes. Yes. About that…" Angeletta's voice died out when she remembered the prize money. She never thought someone might be able to clear out Fort Mercer. She only said it in hope that someone could at least kill Alexandre. The entire town couldn't muster up 750 gold coins, they make a quarter of that money a year.

"I know you don't have the money to pay me. Instead I'll take three alternative payments. Firstly, who owns Fort Mercer?" Bendu questioned the feminine owner.

"It used to belong to the Manticore Knights, but they were forced out of Fort Mercer for many years now," Angeletta was quick on her feet to answer the question. "Why do you ask?"

"I claim the fort as my own," Bendu declared his ownership.

…

"Eh?" Angeletta didn't know what else to say.

* * *

"Are you sure he went this way, Tabitha?" Kirche inquired. The sound of her voice was nearly drowned out from the intense wind.

Tabitha waved her staff around, whispering an incantation.

**Spell of Grapevine Gossip**

The spell was related to the element of the Wind. It silenced loud noises and allowed speech to travel to ears of specific people.

A trio of people rode on Tabitha's Familiar named Sylphid.

It was a blue dragon with a shield-like head. Two horns sprouted out from the head, which were separated by a fin atop of its head. Its scales were a deep sea blue and gleamed from rays of light. Sylphid was a quadruped with two large wings for flight.

At the moment Sylphid sailed through the clouds in the sky. Wind rushed past the occupants riding the majestic beast. The trio consisted of the master of Sylphid, Tabitha. A red-haired woman named Kirche, and a flamboyant blond called Guiche.

Kirche repeated her question one more time, receiving a curt nod from Tabitha to signal that she was very certain that Louise and her familiar traveled this way.

One may ask, why would this trio ever band up and fly together?

Well, Tabitha was concerned over a possible answer she developed to current events as of late. She has a strong conviction from her educated guess that Louise's familiar is not only an elf in disguise, but is responsible for the Familiar Summoning incident where all the students and the teacher involved had an episode of memory loss.

She reasons why Louise's familiar could possibly be an elf is because Illusion type magic was only ever used by elves, and there have been cases where elves use that type of magic to blend in with the populace.

Kirche tagged along the moment she heard Tabitha mention elf. Tabitha only sweetened the deal the moment that she mentioned Louise's familiar. Kirche had two types of fire in her heart. A passion for love and an inferno for revenge. This man had wronged Kirche the second he casted Illusion type magic at her. She still hasn't gotten over the voices that invaded her head.

She also brought her fire salamander Flame. It's shape is reminiscent of a crocodile, with red scales and a flaming tail. The reason she brought the familiar along was in case things went downhill and she needed back up.

Guiche eavesdropped on their conversation and heard Louise's Familiar as well and the things that he did to Kirche. He had a passion of heroism rise from the depths of his very soul, he couldn't allow a man to hurt a woman with such mental abuse. When he learned that his ex-fiancé was involved, purpose molded his heroism into an all or nothing chance to win her back.

So he begged on his knees and cried to Tabitha and Kirche to let him come along. After nearly an hour their denial to his request finally let up and they allowed him to come along.

After nearly an hour of flying they came across a village, one which Guiche recognized very easily.

"Florence?" Guiche voiced his concern, he saw the village from an aerial view, as the son to a famous strategist he was forced to memorize all of the villages, towns, cities, and a lot of geography around most townships. All maps are drawn from an aerial view, so it wasn't a leap in logic to say that Guiche could recognize almost all townships from above. He has heard the rumors circulating around that village, and it was something to fear. "W-why are we going to there of all places?!"

"Why? Are. You. Scared?" Kirche teased Guiche who was practically shaking.

"Yes. Yes I am and you should be too," Guiche didn't play along, his voice was severely serious.

"What's wrong with Florence?" Kirche asked with an odd curiosity.

"Florence is a village ruled by Alexandre Van De Velde," he let his voice stress the name slowly. "Alexandre is the most powerful warlord in all of Halkeginia, and very influential in politics. Many branches of royalty know his name; he is an untouchable criminal. His rule stems from Fort Mercer which he forcibly took away from Tristain's Manticore Knights."

Tabitha rose one of her eyebrows in confusion. "Why."

Kirche elaborated on her friends thought. "Why would Louise go into such a dangerous territory."

"I do not know why, but I am going to be forth coming," Guiche's eyes transformed from his usual playful self to eyes of a man who saw his best friend perish. "Alexandre is a dominant figure in the criminal underworld, his connections are far and wide. His army is larger than most nations combined, if someone were to split a hair on him then a great war between all nations would erupt."

"Do you really think that an army of bandits could stand a chance against an army of trained soldiers?" Kirche let her skepticism flow like a stream.

"Not only does Alexandre have the numbers but he is rumored to have an ace up his sleeve," Guiche warned.

"What would that be?" Kirche decided to humor the boy.

"Mafrecyr."

"Frost Heart…" Tabitha translated the elven name. Mafrecyr has terrorized the elves so much that they claim his heart is made of ice. The beast has nearly killed as many elves as Founder Brimir, and Founder Brimir attempted genocide.

"I am certain that you both have heard of Mafrecyr, the unstoppable beast who's killed over 150 million people alone," he glanced at both of the woman who nodded in silence. "There have been rumors that they're collaborating with each other."

"What proof do you have?" Kirche didn't want to believe in some false gossip.

"My father and I were attempting to predict his pattern, tracking down the path that Mafrecyr was establishing from his bloodshed. It was not hard to track when you follow the trail of corpses," Guiche explained. "Eventually the dead bodies lead up to Fort Mercer, yet not a single citizen in Florence was harmed, nor did the fort suffer any damages."

It wasn't a clear connection between the two, but a bloodthirsty monster stopping his massacre for no reason was suspicious, leaving the only logical answer to point towards co-operation.

"We are here." Tabitha disrupted the grim mood that was set.

Sylphid flew in circles above a fort, the structure had three animate figures around Fort Mercer's entrance.

"Oh great. The  _best_  place to be in Florence," Guiche said with heavy sarcasm.

"Look." Tabitha pointed her finger to the figure.

The door behind one ant-sized figure shut the door behind him. Leading the two other figures away from the fort. Eventually disappearing in the forest foliage.

"Well, let's land and explore," Kirche stuck out her tongue with a silly expression. Guiche held up his hands in protest, albeit worthless as the dragon plummeted to the ground.

"Kraah!" Flame leaped off of the blue dragon, followed by Tabitha, Kirche and eventually Guiche.

"Did you give no thoughts to the warnings I have said?!" Guiche was contemplating whether his peers were sane.

"No we heard you, but Tabitha was certain that Louise and her familiar were just here," Kirche justified her actions. "They seemed pretty alive to me, so it must be safe."

That last part of logic was more of a leap of faith rather than a reasonable cause to explore the most dangerous place in Tristain.

"Are you listening to yourself!" Guiche questioned her obvious insanity. "It could have been a fluke or maybe Louise's familiar did some reconnaissance, the point being, we should  _not_  go in there."

Tabitha took a moment to perform a silent incantation, and waved her staff around.

"What's wrong Guiche?" Kirche shrugged her shoulders, prepared to mock the blond peer. "Are you too chicken?"

Tabitha strained her ear and cupped her hand around it to help her hearing. Guiche on the other hand seemed like he was about to blow up.

"HOW DARE YOU!" he shot back at the red-haired woman. "I am a proud bearer of the Gramont family, we are no cowards, but we are also not idiotic. This is an extremely dangerous place, with swarms of guards ready to kill us at any momen-"

"Silent."

Kirche shifted her attention from the flamboyant blond to her friend. "What do you mean?"

"No enemies."

"There are no enemies in the fort?" Kirche attempted to reassure her assumption. Receiving a firm nod from the spectacle wearing girl.

"It's Fort Mercer, how are there no enemies?!" Guiche was completely blindsided on how such a dangerous place was devoid of enemies.

"Silence."

Tabitha was facing the entrance of the fort, before opening the wooden doors and wandering inside. Kirche followed her footsteps like her shadow. Leaving Guiche alone outside, he debated whether to get himself killed or to stay safe outside. Unfortunately for Guiche, chivalry was conditioned into his life and he couldn't just leave two women alone. So he decided to get himself killed.

The trio explored the fort, getting lost a few times but eventually they found themselves in an antechamber where they were greeted by a gruesome sight. Hundred upon hundreds of corpses filled the room, littering it completely. The most unusual sight was a headless man atop a stage with an altar.

Guiche shrieked in surprise, he wasn't expecting to see a massacre inside of the fort. Tabitha widened her eyes but adjusted quickly. Kirche covered her mouth with her hand and whispered. "Oh…my…"

"How…How did this happen?" the question was to no one in particular, Guiche just felt the need to question the absurdity of the situation. "Did Louise's Familiar do this?"

Tabitha could only nod, that would be the best explanation for this occurrence. The blue-haired girl walked over the corpses towards the one at the altar, before halting to examine the carcass. "Alexandre.'

"W-what."

Guiche sprinted towards the spectacle wearing bluenette and examined the corpse himself. His eyes grew dull and his face lost all color. The man who has deceased was indeed, Alexandre Van De Velde. The ring was a dead give away, his symbol engraved on it.

"Oh no-Oh no-Oh no!" Guiche grasped both sides of his head and rocked it back and forth. He lost himself in hyperventilation as his world crumbled around him.

"What's wrong?" Kirche questioned the hyperventilating boy. "Isn't it a good thing that he's dead?"

"NO! No it's not!" Guiche screamed his reply. "Alexandre was a necessary evil in our world! He held a vice grip on the criminal underworld. He may have been a tyrant but since he gained control, crime rates decreased and criminals were more focused towards his agendas. Now that he's dead the criminal underworld will fall into hysteria and great war may be the result of his death!"

"I think you're over exaggerating…" Kirche stated with an undertone of uncertainty.

"OKAY! ALRIGHT! Let's assume I am over exaggerating, no war breaks out, and crime rates do not change. What I am completely certain of, is the fact that whoever is responsible for this will be hunted down and killed.  _And_   _if_ they do not find the one responsible for his death, they will destroy anything in their path," Guiche then elaborated on his train of thought. "They will kill Louise and her familiar."

Kirche rubbed the temples on her head before letting out a sigh. "So what can we do?"

"We kill her familiar before the bandits will have a chance. It's the only way to prevent countless deaths of innocent lives."

"Krah?" Flame felt a shiver of unease as Guiche eye'd the familiar down.

* * *

"Why?" Louise had to ask.

"You want to know magic right?" Bendu inquired, which received a soft nod. "Let me show you how to get rich quick."

Bendu, Louise, and Siesta were traversing a copper mine. The Champion of Cyrodiil received his second alternative payment, which was intel from Angeletta about a copper mine which was abandoned when Alexandre took hold of Fort Mercer. Fortunately the miners were affiliated with the Tristain government, so they were ordered to retreat the moment Alexandre arrived.

Bendu held a single torch to light the way, an abyss of darkness presented itself at the farthest reach of the light.

"How can we get rich quick from copper? And why do we even need to get rich?" Louise was getting more curious with his actions by the day.

"Ha. Louise, Siesta has a job, she didn't come for free," Bendu laughed off her ignorance, he had something special in store for the two.

"You're paying the thief?!" the young mage gave the thief a murderous gaze, to which she held her hands up in protest.

"What?! No, I'm paying Osmond," The Champion of Cyrodiil explained. His torch flickered as they delved deeper into the mine.

"YOU'RE PAYING OSMOND FOR A SERVANT?" Louise cried in surprise. "How much?!"

"A small amount…" Bendu tried to laugh off his response.

"How. Much."

Louise wasn't joking around, she had a general concern for how much money they burned for the thief.

"It might have been…" Bendu trailed off before thinking how much he bargained. "25 pounds of gold."

Bendu kept his descent steady while both women came to a complete halt.

"..."

No one raised their voice, so naturally he kept going further and further away. Before he heard a shriek from a banshee.

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!" Louise's voice echoed from the narrow walls. "WHAT IN FOUNDER'S NAME WERE YOU THINKING!"

"Oh you're over exaggerating," the swordsman waved the girl's reaction off.

"That's nearly a half a million gold pieces in monetary value," Siesta explained. She may not have been educated in the same extent as nobles with magic. But commoners have their own schooling and it was more fixated on understanding the economy and basic math.

"Hence the reason why we're here," he elaborated his reasoning like it was dumb not to know why they were in an abandoned copper mine.

"Why are we in a copper mine when we need a half a million gold pieces?" Louise asked calmly, restricting a hellish incarnation of anger.

"Aha!" Bendu expressed in delight. They hit the bottom of the mine where a minecart full of copper was located.

"What are we looking at?" Louise questioned, with disappointment engraved on her face.

"The answers to our problems," the man shook the cart to get a feel for it. "It's roughly 25 pounds of copper wouldn't you say?"

"Sir," Siesta said in an exaggerated fashion. "At most that's probably 60 silver coins in there."

"Okay! I will humor you, how will this solve our debt problem?" Louise was beginning to become more open minded. In this short amount of time, she has met a sentient crab with alcoholism, talked to her god and was taking lessons from her familiar on magic. She would give him a chance to surprise her even further.

"First, let's get this thing out of here."

**Light Touch**

_Feather on touch for 250 points for 360 seconds._

An orange light emitted from the man's hand and the moment he touched the minecart it became tinted orange for a few seconds.

Bendu began pushing the minecart with no effort, as his fingertips allowed him to push the cart uphill.

"What was that?" Louise watched in amazement. He was like a super man with the way he was handling the heavy cart.

"Feather. It's a type of spell that boosts the caster's ability to carry items," Bendu explained with ease. "But the spell is intended to just work with the caster's ability to carry items, I've experimented with the spell to the point where I can make items light as a feather when I touch them."

"Light Touch…" Louise said absent mindedly.

"Yeah," Bendu rubbed the back of his head. "I suppose the spell's name is self explanatory."

The ascent back up to the entrance of the mine appeared to be faster than descending into the mine. Bendu has personally noticed when he ever makes a journey to anywhere, it takes longer to get there than to get back.

The light blinded the trio before they became accustomed to it. The cave was located on the side of a nearby mountain, which wasn't to far away from Fort Mercer.

"Alright, so how are we going to get rich from copper?" Louise asked with a skeptical tone.

"I'm going to first demonstrate the spell, but I won't teach you until we gather the proper resources to bestow my magic upon both of you."

"BOTH OF US?!" Louise was shocked by his subtle revelation. "But she is a commoner!"

"Commoner or not, you both have a well of potential that is just begging to be drawn upon."

"But-But," Louise could only repeat that word.

"It's either I teach both of you or neither, now keep your trap shut, I'm about to show you something incredible."

The Champion of Cyrodiil took a deep breath before exhaling. He focused his magicka into this activity, then grasping a single piece of copper ore in his hand.

**Transmute Mineral Ore**

The copper ore transmuted into a piece of iron ore. Which raised a couple eyebrows from the women watching.

**Transmute Mineral Ore**

The iron ore then became a silver ore. This act caused both of the women to widen their eyes.

**Transmute Mineral Ore**

The silver ore achieved its final transformation as a piece of gold ore, it gleamed in the sun with it's golden radiance. Louise and Siesta had both of their mouths ajar from the miracle they had just witnessed. No alchemist in this world could turn copper into gold, that impossible idea have created rumors of the philosopher's stone which have driven people mad, but lo and behold, the man in front of them just did the impossible. They couldn't even vocalize their amazement, they just remained stunned.

Louise finally broke the silence by asking a simple question. "You can teach us to do that?!"

"Yes. Yes I can."

Both of the woman squealed in joy.

* * *

Bendu was pushing a minecart off it's tracks on a dirt road through the forest, with Louise and Siesta following him patiently.

Although the minecart was light as can be, the minecart was intended to be pushed on a track so pushing it forward on dirt wasn't the most efficient way of utilizing a minecart. It was in fact, very difficult to steer.

Bendu was making small talk with the women until he halted completely and held up his hand to motion that the women do the same.

The swordsman walked in front of the cart full of copper ore and threw Duskfang on the ground in front of them. A snapping noise could be heard as a trip wire was destroyed.

Two tree sized logs exposed themselves and swung in front of the trio. The intent of this trap was to kill the victim instantly. Though the curious thing was that this trap wasn't here when they used this dirt road the first time.

Three hooded figures unveiled themselves from the foliage of the forest. Standing together in a triangle formation while armed with swords. They stood 40 paces away from Bendu.

"Identify yourselves!" Bendu shouted.

"Die elf!" the voice was distorted and cold, coming from the middle figure in the group.

Fire spewed from underneath the hood of the middle figure, causing Bendu to evade the danger with a roll.

Bendu stood quickly and gave an order to his allies. "Louise, Siesta, Back away!"

The two women followed his orders without hesitation, running a fair distance away.

Bendu focused his magicka as he used a common summon spell from Morrowind.

**Summon Bonelord**

_Summons Bonelord for 60 seconds._

A black whirlpool of darkness manifested upon the ground, erupting a dark sphere with flames of purple swirling around the sphere like a tornado.

Four skeletal hands brought itself into reality, two hands grasping broad swords, while the other two were free for magical potential. All four hands connecting to one being.

The head of the Bonelord appeared from the darkness. It was a skull that levitated high above the body. The skull was held by a brown armored hood which stretched down to the armored robes of the same color.

Two blue orbs of light flickered like flames inside of the Bonelord's skull.

"AAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!" the skeleton roared a bone chilling scream. The darkness dispelled itself as the summoned creature made itself known.

Bendu held his sword, Lucien Lachance, in his hands. He was prepared for the bloodshed that awaited them.

The two cloaked figures near the middle one charged towards their targets, one towards the Bonelord, while the other charged towards Bendu.

The Bonelord was the first to attack its opponent. It casted a curse towards the cloaked figure, causing the figure to slow down.

They exchanged blows, the figure would slash and the Bonelord would parry.

After a few seconds of defense, the Bonelord saw it's chance to attack. With a single cleave, it sliced the human figure diagonally in half.

Before anyone could celebrate, a gale of concentrated wind shot out from the forest and hit the Bonelord with a direct hit.

Unfortunately for the perpetrator, the target brushed off the ambush as if it were child's play, only being slid a few meters from its original position.

Bendu was fixated on his own opponent, yet didn't miss the surprise attack from an outside force.

The swordsman played with his opponent with the utmost caution, watching for the enemy to strike him from the shadows.

The cloaked figure danced around Bendu's swordplay, almost as if the loss of an ally has improved his opponent.

Eventually, the lone figure who conjured fire came closer to the Bonelord, then suddenly breathed fire from its mouth in the direction of Bendu.

Although the swordsman was prepared, easily sidestepping the fires that reached for him from afar, only to feel heat from behind. Bendu glanced over his shoulder to see a concentrated inferno blasting in his direction from behind.

"Clever bastards."

Bendu braced himself as the fire scorched his back, burning his clothes and coloring his skin crimson with blood.

Steam sizzled from his back, the fire qualmed after a few moments. Bendu's eyes were shut tight, as he prepared a powerful attack.

**Wall of Ice**

_50 points of damage per second._

Bendu aimed his hand at his first opponent, hoarfrost poured from his palm towards his target.

The spell manifested spikes of ice protruding outward and inward. Destroying any and all major organs as the figure became a porcupine of ice spikes.

The figure dropped to the ground with a heavy thud.

Bendu then aimed his spell at the remaining figure who spewed fire and fought the Bonelord.

"Noooo!" a mysterious feminine voice screamed from the forest. But it was far too late as the spell lept from his hand towards the preoccupied figure.

"KAH!" the last figure was the only one to make a noise of his demise. Crimson spikes of ice protruded from the hood, although strangely enough no other part of the body was stained with blood. Neither was the other corpses during this battle.

Bendu investigated the corpse, only to see a suit of armor reminiscent of Guiche's Valkyries and a mutilated corpse of a red salamander, disfigured beyond recognition.

"What in Oblivion," Bendu glanced at the other two corpses from afar, noticing the sheets of metal and lack of blood.

"Clever," that's the only word he could use to describe the situation, his enemies were thinking outside of the box.

Bendu shook himself out of his thoughts, and took note of the three new combatants.

Tabitha, Guiche, and Kirche.

They surrounded him from at least 15 paces away each. Kirche was the most furious as her face was contorted into something similiar to a demon.

"YOU-YOU! KILLED MY DAMN FAMILIAR!" Kirche rose her wand in the air, gripping it so tightly the it began to splinter.

Bendu chuckled, this was about to get fun. The Bonelord came close to its master as it only had 30 seconds of its duration remaining.

Bendu rose his hand and motioned her to come forth. "Many have said the same before you, but they all faced the same fate as your pet."

* * *

**FDOOOOOOOMPH!**

A heavy black steel collar fell to the ground, releasing it's hold on a monstrous beast. The behemoth had white fur and blood red eyes that widened on its liberation.

"HA. HAHA. HAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" the beast bellowed a sinister laugh that echoed through the valleys.

An army of bandits immediately stopped their march the moment they heard the laugh. The body guards that surrounded the beast were shocked with such immense fear that they were paralyzed. All the bodyguards at that moment had two things in common. Their lives flashed before their eyes and their bowels became empty, some had browns stains on their pants while others had a puddle of urine.

The beast was four meters tall (about 13 feet), an arsenal of weaponry decorated his frame. He had a crossbow, a bow, variations of swords, such as a claymore, a broadsword, a great sword, and a short sword, he even had a warhammer. The beast hid in the cloak of midnight, he was a walking army which was set loose from his cuffs. And everyone knew that fact that they were going to die.

The bodyguards were first, the great sword was held with only one hand, the sword sliced through all of their midsections with a single motion.

The bottom half of their bodies spewed blood like fountains.

"PRAY TO YOUR DEAD GOD! HE WILL NOT ANSWER!"

The demonic voice had a curdle similar to gravel falling. The beast relished in the fear of men, and was craving war.

"ALEXANDRE IS DEAD! MY WRATH WILL INCINERATE EVERYONE!"

The beast charged after the fleeing soldiers that thought they could survive a few seconds longer. They were all so very wrong.

A great sword reaped tens of lives with every swing. Dwindling half of the armies numbers in a minute.

Archers shot arrows burning with a fire, and it lodged into the beast. Not that it showed any reaction as the behemoth swatted it off like a man would swat away an annoying fly.

Nearby villages in the valley heard the torturous screams, leaders of various villages approached the source of the echoing screams.

When they arrived, it was dead silent as hundreds of corpses littered the field in the short time it took them to arrive.

What made the only living people retreat to their villages was the bloody footprints of the beast walking north towards Fort Mercer.

Crimson footsteps were the signature of Mafrecyr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note From Gray Q. Gregory
> 
> If you wish to comment, I will reply.  
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Special Thanks to Jkysler and Surprisingly_Blank
> 
> Until Next Time...


	6. Chapter 5 Inane Butterfly Effect

Chapter 5 Inane Butterfly Effect

**Two Weeks After Alexandre's Death.**

**Royal Palace, Tristainia, Tristain**

Princess Henriette was signing parchments which entailed an increase in supplies to the departing Tristain Army units. The main reason for this decision is caused by the invading forces on the southern border of Gallia. The neighboring government of Gallia decided to invade Tristain, a decision she would make sure they would regret.

She grumbled under her breath. She truly held disdain towards the King of Gallia, Joseph.

The name brought back bad memories of the man and his arrogant attitude pissed her off, along with that act of superiority he flaunts to everyone around him. He had a knack for ticking off the wrong people, although he was untouchable from a political standpoint because he has the 2nd strongest army in Halkeginia.

The princess allowed a frown to surface on her face, a lot of problems faced the small kingdom of Tristain. The burden was so heavy that a giant couldn't withstand its weight.

The princess was in an extravagant room with a built-in brick fireplace.

Her desk was the center of the room, and faced the entry door. Four windows surrounded the desk, one to the princess' left and right, the other two were behind her. They were all decorated with red velvet drapes. A singular crimson rug ran from the entry door to her desk.

The princess rubbed her temples to relieve stress, all of this paperwork was getting to her head. Her hair flowed down at shoulder length, bangs of red-violet hair covered her forehead. A silver tiara embedded with emeralds graced her head. She wore a purple cloak and a royal white blouse beneath a royal cloak.

Her father perished a few months ago, falling to the illness known as the World Scourge. A recent plague that has been killing more people than any war has.

Henriette shifted her head towards the window just to see the pestilence riddled bodies on her streets. Men, women, children, nobles and commoners befell the scourge.

A corpse collector walked on the sidewalk with a wooden cart following him. Carcasses filled the cart to the brim, a lot of corpse began to decompose.

She glanced at the next set of paperwork on her table, and it was in summary, a budget increase for research and disposal of corpses that have fell to the World Scourge. A quarter of her town's population have either fallen or been afflicted with the scourge.

Currently the Academia was investigating everything about the disease, using a combination of spells and tonics to try and find a cure. So far, the Academia has yet to discover a vaccination or a cure.

Princess Henriette shook her head from her thoughts, she needed to focus. Her father's death has given her a heavy burden on her shoulders. Henriette's mother, or the queen, resigned from ruling the kingdom because of the grief she's suffered from her husband's death. To Henriette it was a selfish act, throwing away the future of the kingdom because of a death of a loved one was only weighing the one over the many.

**Donk-Donk**

A loud but crisp knock alerted Princess Henriette, she responded immediately. "Enter."

The royal messenger Mott entered the room. The man looked more like a clown than a noble, the most notable article of clothing was a large neck ruffle. The man had black hair with a mustache and eyebrows twirling at their ends. A red cape donned his shoulders as he walked up to the desk of Princess Henriette.

She didn't hate the man like she did with the King of Gallia. Although the royal messenger certainly had lecherous eyes that he would never qualm, not even when in the presence of higher royalty.

He handed the letter over to the princess, and then gave a brief description of the message. "The village of Florence, west of our capital Tristiania, has reported the death of Alexandre Van De Velde."

Princess Henriette placed down her quill slowly, and took a deep breath. She was having trouble processing the information, as if her mind skipped like a record. "Could you please repeat the name once more, I believe I misheard you."

The princess laced her fingers together as she made her ears more attentive this time.

"Citizens of Florence have been spreading news that Alexandre Van De Velde has died. This information is more detailed in the report that I have delivered to you."

Red-violet bangs covered the princess' eyes. She waved the man away as her body shivered. The moment Mott left her presence her face was contorted into a face of anger and fear.

_SON OF A BITCH!_ Princess Henriette screamed her anguish inside of her head. She had enough ordeals on her plate to handle, now the one man who controlled the criminal underworld is dead. Anyone with basic knowledge of current events could predict that crime rates would skyrocket.

The princess unlocked her desk drawer, pulling out a bottle of hard liquor labelled 'Fresh Tempest' and a small crystal glass. It wasn't fit for a noble of her position to touch an unrefined alcohol. Although after some coercion with her bodyguard, Agnes, she began to sneak the princess some hard liquor.

She poured the amber fluid into a crystal glass that sparkled from the window's light. When the glass came to be half full, she placed the bottle down and picked up the shot glass, drinking it all in one gulp.

"~ahhh~"

When ruling an entire country, people have to alleviate stress in different ways. Some kings and queens had sex slaves, others had food, some had torture. Princess Henrietta had her bottle to keep her comfort, although Agnes watches her habit very closely so it hasn't become a problem...yet.

Princess Henrietta felt a nice woozy feeling, then decided to put her secret habit back into her desk. Afterwards, she held a paper cutter and sliced the black letter.

An envelope's color had a myriad of meanings in her country, white meant miscellaneous, blue meant public opinion, yellow meant budget decisions, red meant suspicion of invasion, black meant assassination.

Black letters give a summary of the victim's criminal history then giving an explanation of an individual's childhood and rise to power, followed by their ties into society and the influence they once had. Then elaborating how the individual was assassinated, finishing it off with the affects that individual's death will have on Tristain.

_-To Princess Henriette_

_The contents of this letter should be destroyed after the information at hand has been fully comprehended._

_-Criminal History_

_Alexandre Van De Velde is known by the alias of 'Overlord De Velde'. He is infamous for his king-like leadership of the criminal underworld._

_He is guilty of various nefarious crimes such as:_

_Crimes Against Humanity_

_Genocide_

_Organized Crime_

_Suspicion of Coup d'etat_

_Enslavement of Human Beings_

_Human Trafficking_

_Molesting Children_

_Invading Land as well as Claiming Stolen Land._

_We recovered a journal written by Alexandre Van De Velde. The following is brief summaries of his life up to his death._

_-Individual's Childhood_

_Alexandre Van De Velde at the age of 11 lost his parents, ironically, to bandits. They took the boy in as their own with the intent to sell the boy to a noble, but they were impressed by the boy when he picked the lock to his cage and smuggled out half of their food rations._

_The majority of the bandits wanted to kill the boy because of the amount of food that he stole, but the leader of the bandits decided to spare the boy and put him to better use._

_He began a life of crime by illegally importing spices and drugs from various foreign countries. They branded the boy with their insignia which kept him from running away. The bandits gained a substantial income from the boy, but the boy did not gain any other benefits other than living._

_-Rise to power_

_After an immense amount of built up anger when the boy reached the age of 16, Alexandre Van De Velde assassinated the leader of the bandits, and hastily replaced him as the leader._

_Many bandits rejected the boy as their leader and attempted to kill the boy for his actions. Little did they know that the boy anticipated their reaction, gaining a vast repertoire of skills in swordplay from his importation journeys, he exhibited an innate ability to handle a blade. The boy showed more than just skill in swordplay, he was a master in the art of psychological warfare. He was famous for shoving a pike in his victim's anus, allowing the corpse to slide down the pike then setting the pikes up near his tent to create an atmosphere of unease to anyone who disagreed with his rise._

_The bandits gave him the infamous title, 'The Draugr', because of his pale appearance and merciless actions. Alexandre Van De Velde was a man who dealt with rumors one of two ways, either eradicate it from the source or strengthen the rumor to his advantage._

_He performed the latter, becoming the ghost he was accused of being, wearing powder white make up and becoming more merciless. He would display the corpses of any bandit who held ill intention against his position or decision, causing him to have a tyrant-like status._

_The Draugr became Alexandre Van De Velde's alias when he delved deeper into the criminal underworld, exchanging favors with clans, families, syndicates and underworld empires._

_The most notable deal with the criminal underworld was the Giovanni Mafia Commission, a previously active crime family in Costa, Romalia. Notorious for their iron grip in a majority of Romanian cities, they were famous for providing an usury to poor citizens and offering protection to local businesses from criminals._

_De Velde wanted protection for trafficking spices, drugs and people through Costa and paid the Giovanni family vasts amounts of gold. The problem was that the Giovanni family broke their promise and kept half of the supplies that went through Costa._

_De Velde confronted the head figures of the Giovanni Mafia Commission and slayed them on the spot. He attempted to take control of the crime family, which sparked a legendary war called by many as, The Ghost War._

_The main figures behind the war were De Velde and the descendants of the Giovanni family's head figures._

_A majority of the mafia sided with the descendants, while a small amount of the mafia respected De Velde for his power._

_The reason why most people called it a Ghost War, was because the general populace of Romania had no idea there was a war to begin with. All of the war activities happened within the shadows of night._

_The 9 year war ended with De Velde dissolving the mafia into his own empire. He named it, The Draugr Dominion._

_After toppling one of the most powerful crime families in history, Alexandre Van De Velde gained respect from many, and his alias spread like wildfire._

_Small syndicates, families, and clans came to entreat him for protection, giving him wealth and a reputation for never breaking a promise._

_It was not until groups of various criminals banded together to end his reign. They all originated from a city known as Dübensee, and shared a similar ethnic background which was known as Dübensean. All of them challenged his power._

_The city was once the capital of Germania, and the moment disrespect was shown to his dominion and his pact was broken, he performed an act that is still controversial to this day._

_He burned the city to the ground, murdering men, women and children. Exterminating every Dübensean until their culture was eradicated._

_He was responsible for the Dübensean Genocide._

_The Draugr then became an influential figure in both the political and underground world. Known to everyone as 'the man who burnt the world to the ground'._

_His steel courage earned him a myriad of contacts, from kings and queens, and tyrants and crime lords. He shared his name with his most powerful connections, giving them a sense of trust, letting them feel close to him by allowing them to see the man behind the monster's mask. It was then that those powerful figures gave him his most well known moniker._

_Overlord De Velde_

_-Contacts and Influence_

_Alexandre Van De Velde created an invincible shield, constructed by fear and power, not a single person would touch a single hair on his head._

_He has assisted many different mediocre, criminal and royal groups. Gaining many backings from different organizations from the smallest gangs to the largest empires. The number of supporters towards De Velde is uncountable as his allies were never recorded and any verbal agreement he did have with his associates would be denied by everyone related to him._

_What everyone can agree on is De Velde's adamant grip on the criminal underworld. There was not a soul brave enough to go against his will, if there was any ongoing criminal activity that he didn't authorize, then the culprits are terminated well before authorities can touch the criminals._

_The Draugr Dominion has been predicted to have an army of 1 million people, although it may be an over calculation or an under calculation as the army is spread across all of Halkegenia, hiding in plain sight. The only way to tell if an individual is affiliated with the Draugr Dominion is the Mark of the Draugr._

_Their symbol is an outline of a skull, with three eye sockets, the third has a solid dot to represent the all seeing eye._

_The symbolism behind the Mark of the Draugr is that joining the dominion essentially brings the death of someone's past life, and guarantees a rebirth of their new life in the Draugr Dominion._

_Many cities and townships have this symbol engraved into allies or a tattoo and or scar of the symbol on their body, to show their allegiance to the Draugr Dominion._

_What makes De Velde so powerful is his how far his control spreads, there are syndicates in nearly every settlement, town, city or capital that enforce his words like law._

_-The Assassination_

_Alexandre Van De Velde has been found dead. His head has been decapitated from his body, Angeletta Verstraeten has verified by her ownership of De Velde's head._

_When asked to hand over the head to authorities, she refused, going on record to accept the potential danger that could arise from her ownership._

_She has stated that the man responsible was named Bendu Olo, he accepted a request she made to clear out Fort Mercer, coming back 20 minutes after the request with De Velde's head and his entire army slaughtered inside the fortress._

_On further investigation at Fort Mercer, we were denied entry into the fort by Bendu Olo, on accounts that he claimed the fortress, renaming it Fort Sheo._

_We informed Olo that Fort Mercer was government property, and if he intended to continue to claim ownership that Tristan would have to use force to recover it. He replied with "Try and take it from me."_

_When he was asked to comply with authorities and come to Tristiania for further questioning, he laughed and replied, '...Gods are above mortal laws.'_

_When we inquired about the De Velde's corpse, he refused to hand away the corpse. But he did allow us to have De Velde's Journal, as long as we left the premise._

_We did not insist any further as the fear of casualties was a very real possibility._

_-Impact of Death_

_We theorize that the influence that Alexandre Van De Velde had on criminal activities will crumble, and as an effect, crimes rate will gradually rise as soon as his death is announced to the public._

_The Draugr Dominion may either crumble for the fight for leadership or run amok without a proper lead to guide it._

_Syndicates, and small gangs may kill or be killed because of the loss of De Velde's protection._

_A great war may start from his death and the Tristainia Investigation Bureau predicts that Florence may be the beginning battle ground for the first fight in the great war._

_It must be stressed that his all of these predictions are an educated guess on information gathered thus far._

_-Postscript_

_That concludes the information we have gathered as of yet, when more information arises we will send a follow up report._

_Information Gathered by,_

_-Tristainia Investigation Bureau_

_Written by,_

_-Benjamine Hendrickx_

Princess Henriette pinched the bridge of her nose, and re-read the papers over and over again. All of the information that was presented to her was oversimplified and focused on important details, such as his biography, crimes, influence, and death. Finishing the documents off with conjecture with the results of his death.

After the princess was assured she absorbed and memorized the information, she withdrew a wand from her side and casted a spell on the documents.

**Spell of Ignition**

It is a basic spell in the element of Fire, a majority of nobles could learn the spell if they put forth the time and effort into manipulating the element of Fire to the smallest degree.

A small flame lit the bottom of the papers and gradually grew in size, devouring the papers and its content. Soon becoming ashes, the remains of the documents were placed in the trash.

"Bendu Olo...Fort Sheo…" Princess Henriette pondered what sort of man he may be. No person she knew would ever dare to cross paths with the man, nevertheless kill him.

She would have liked to send a small militia to recover the Bendu Olo, but unfortunately Tristain was a small province with an even smaller military. They had basic troops and aerial forces but it was nothing past 100,000 soldiers in all. And with the invasion in the southern border, she couldn't spare a single soldier to further investigate Florence.

Her military was so small that it was required for her to marry royalty from a different country to increase her nation's military power. In fact, Princess Henriette had an arranged marriage with Germanian Royalty. She shuddered at the thought, they were well known for polygamy and barbaric traditions.

Princess Henriette shook her head from the responsibility that weighed so heavily on her shoulders. She thought more optimistic thoughts, such as the special event at Tristain Academy of Magic.

The Familiar Exhibition.

It was a talent show in a sense, where a mage and their familiar try to show off their abilities. This was a much needed event in her life as this would alleviate the stress she's been dealing with.

Not to mention the added bonus of seeing her best friend, Louise de la Valliere. She was so excited to speak with her again, a small chat would be more than enough to reinvigorate Princess Henriette for a while.

Princess Henriette held out her index finger while curving it slightly. She then made a sharp whistle, after a few moments a purple butterfly flapped its wings through the slightly ajar window. It fluttered until it perched itself on her finger.

"Ah, Eliza, my familiar," she gave a warm smile to the purple butterfly. "What would I do if you were to perish?"

* * *

**One Day After Alexandre's Death**

**Fort Sheo, Florence, Tristian**

"I WILL BURN YOU IN MY INFERNO!" Kirche shrieked another threat at Bendu Olo.

"Good luck with that," Bendu sipped some teacup, the green leaf tea steamed fresh from the teapot.

"YOU KILLED FLAME!" she cried streams of tears, her glossy eyes began to tint red.

"You used him as a decoy," Bendu sipped the remnants of his tea before placing it on a platter.

"It does not change the fact you killed him," she rebutted his accusation.

"You're right, it doesn't change the fact I killed him," he agreed, there was no point in arguing that he was responsible for its death. "But blaming me for his death doesn't rectify the fact that you forced your companion into a dangerous situation."

"Grrr. It was not my choice whether or not to use him in battle.  _Right Guiche?"_  her voice was envenomed when she spoke her comrade's name.

Guiche could barely look Kirche in the eye, it was all his fault that her familiar died. "She's right, I could not just replicate Valkyries for you to fight or else you would obliterate them all in no time, which would defeat the purpose of creating an ambush. So one of the Valkyries use magic to focus your attention, using Flame came to mind."

"You could have summoned more Valkyries, while Kirche conjured fire from the distance," Bendu offered the idea to the blond boy.

"That would not have worked against you, the purpose of the three Valkyries were to make you drop your guard and to have you focus on the enemies, while we ambush you from the sides, taking you down swifty."

"However, that strategy didn't work either, and Kirche's familiar died without rhyme or reason."

The three figures were bound by rope against a stone wall. Dim candles lit up the chamber, but its illumination was so poor that only the occupants in the room were visible, everything else was hidden in the shadows.

The occupants were two girls and one boy. Tabitha, Kirche, and Guiche.

Bendu sighed slightly when you looked at the group as a whole, apparently necromancy was frowned upon in this world and not only that but everyone appears to have a trigger word.

"Damn, ' _elf'_ ," Kirche swore under her breath.

To top it all off, elven magic in this world is remarkably close to his own. He had just learned that elves are the only beings that could not only resurrect the dead but use Illusion based magic.

What sealed the deal that he was the fact that Bendu didn't require a wand to cast spells, which was the most notable feature of any elf.

"I'm impressed," Bendu complimented the group, it was a valiant effort.

"What was impressive?" Guiche muttered in grief, he was solely responsible for their capture and the death of Kirche's familiar, guilt devoured him entirely. "Our failure?"

Guiche's facial features became covered from his hair, his head tilted downward.

"I was foolish to think I could win…"

It wasn't until Guiche felt a pressure on his shoulder that he looked upward.

"You're too hard on yourself, you utilize every advantage that was feasible for you, but you have much to learn," his strategy was ingenious, and would have killed any other enemy, however, Bendu was in a different league than everyone else.

"If I used every advantage at my disposal, then why did I lose?" Guiche has learned many tactics from his father and gained strategies from a plethora of war scenarios. He wasn't a novice when it came to formulating a strategy. "What do I lack?"

"Experience," he was honest, Guiche had the knowledge to be a great strategist, but he lacked that important element. "More importantly, you attempted to combat against a man who has ample supplies of experience, as where you have little to none."

"Know yourself, know your enemy, and you will not lose a single battle," this was a wise matra he developed after fighting hundreds upon hundreds enemies.

Guiche glanced away from the champion, rejecting his advice. Him and the two other girls still had the notion that he was an elf.

He wanted to rectify that false thought, "So, all three of you believe me to be an elf?"

"What else could you be?! You reanimated a skeleton! You summoned a demon!" Kirche screamed defiantly.

"Only two things have the power to bring back the dead, Founder Brimir and Elves," Guiche stated with a grimace. "You killed us did you not? I remember dying, burning alive."

Kirche looked downward at the ground. "I saw my life flash before my eyes, but you brought us back?"

Tabitha nodded in agreement with her allies, everything they spoke about was the truth

"Only elves make pacts with spirits, and that demon was one of them," Kirche elaborated on the previous accusation. "What spirit did you make a pact with, that has the power to bring back the dead?"

"I didn't resurrect you but you were close to death, be thankful that I was a healer."

"Like I could be thankful to an  _elf!"_  Kirche spat at the man.

Bendu Olo had trouble coming up with a rebuttal to their accusation that he was an elf. It was like being declared a witch by a mob and defying the accusation, if they burn you on a stake and you live you're a witch, if you die then you're not a witch. It's impossible to convince a hysteric mind otherwise when it adopted the most logical conclusion to their insanity.

There was no way to prove otherwise without irrefutable proof that is contrary to the notion.

"Alright, how can I prove to all of you that I'm not an elf?" Bendu inquired, he wasn't going to have his race mistaken for a majority of their lives.

"By letting us go…?" Guiche suggested with uncertainty behind his voice, then followed by a sad chuckle.

"Ha. Nice try," he gave a sarcastic laugh to Guiche's suggestion.

"Transmutation."

Tabitha spoke concisely, her eyes were locked into his. Bendu stared at the bluenette girl for a few moments before Kirche spoke up.

"Halkegenia slave elves are unable to perform alchemy or transmute a material."

"Is that so," Bendu Olo walked away from the detainees, arriving at a minecart filled with copper ore and one piece of gold ore.

He grasped the copper ore and proceeded to walk back to the detainees.

"This is copper," he stated, earning a firm nod from the group.

**Transmute Mineral Ore**

The copper swifty changed colors like a chameleon, the ore tinted from brown to gray.

"This is iron, an impossible feat if I were an elf," that should've cleared the air between them, proving without a doubt that he was human.

The trio displayed a variety of surprise on all of their faces, but they all became neutral when Kirche spoke up again.

"I do not know, there have been myths that there are new strain of elves that can perform such feats," Kirche elaborated on her previous information.

"Aargh," he tossed the piece of iron into the minecart. "Alright so you all claim I'm an elf because you believe you're influenced by an Illusion spell, correct?"

"Yes."

Tabitha was a woman of few words, and the few words she did say took everyone's attention. Her response was filled with conviction.

"Let me destroy that notion," Bendu walked towards Kirche.

**Voice of Rapture**

_Charm 36 points for 30 seconds on Target_

A green light emitted his right hand, a ball of green lunged from his hand towards Kirche and engulfed her in a green aura. Her eyes lost their color, and her mouth shifted from a frown to a smile.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER!?" Guiche shouted while jerking his rope bound.

"It's a charm, another Illusion spell," he then shifted his attention from Guiche to Kirche. "Kirche, who am I to you?"

"You're my lover of course," Kirche stated with a cute smile. "Why am I tied up sweetie?"

"Now, it's clear I know Illusion spells, but no illusion can counter an illusion, they can only add on to the effect or override its effect," he raised his palm towards her and he materialized a new spell.

**Legendary Dispel Other**

_Dispel 250 points on target_

A white ball of light engulfed Kirche in sheets of pure white. Her smile quickly shifted to a frown the moment she glanced at Bendu.

"No more of your mind games," Kirche had enough of this man playing with her mind.

"Kirche, do my ears seem pointed to you?" Bendu asked with a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

"I can not see through all the illusions you have warped my perception with," Kirche stated with a venomous tone.

"Kirche, who am I to you?" Bendu repeated his question once more.

"You're a despicable elf with no heart. If you were to die from something out of my hand, the only thing I would feel is rage from the fact it was not by my hand."

"Oh no."

Everything in Tabitha's mind started to click, her educated guess was wrong and this example was undeniable proof.

"I am sorry."

That apology was meant for everyone in the room, Bendu, Kirche, and Guiche.

"You did nothing wrong, what do you have to be sorry for," Kirche reassured her friend that an apology was not necessary.

"She figured it out," Bendu explained. "You are forgiven."

"Forgiven for what? You're an elf!" Guiche shouted. "She needs an apology from you, not vice versa."

"Kirche. Guiche."

Tabitha attempted to find out where to start explaining the significance of what they just saw, only to find cotton mouth clouding her tongue.

"Let me explain," Bendu prefaced. "You all agreed that you're under an Illusion spell that twists your perception of me, convincing all of you that I'm an elf, correct?" Kirche and Guiche nodded in agreement. "The spell I casted on Kirche was a Charm spell, which falls under the Illusion school of magic." they both glanced at each other with uncertainty. "I casted a spell outside of the Illusion school of magic, dispelling any and all magic effects that have been casted upon you. Meaning that you see me as a human, not an elf under the guise of an illusion spell."

"In summary, I am, without a reasonable doubt a human being," he summed up the meaning behinds explanations.

They both wanted to deny his statement, it went against the very fiber of their conditioning into nobility. A man outside of nobility was proving them wrong, and they wanted to turn the tables. Yet Tabitha was apologizing and she was the one who accused Bendu of being an elf.

Kirche was still furious at the man for killing her familiar, but she knew she was in the wrong, it didn't mean she would apologize nor admit that fact. Her face tinted red with embarrassment, she couldn't muster any words to Bendu.

Guiche felt something he hasn't felt for awhile, remorse. He wanted to say how sorry he was that he attempted to kill him, but the words wouldn't leave his lips.

"I-I-I" Guiche attempted to say something, anything.

"I don't care for an apology, I ask that all of you learn from this experience," he waved off all of their expressions.

Bendu grasped a nearby rusty dagger and cut off their binds, confusing them immeasurably.

"Are you not afraid that we may attempt to attack you?" Guiche questioned the man's crazy actions.

Bendu shrugged, giving a nonchalant reply. "You can try, but I am confident that I'm stronger than all of you."

He walked towards his round table, and grasped the lone book he was inscribing earlier. It was an interesting experiment he has never attempted before. This specific book would have to collect dust until Kirche became worthy of learning its content. Although he was unsure if his experiment would be successful.

His back was turned away from the trio, to which Kirche seemed incredibly conflicted on what to do next.

With a sudden determination, Kirche grasped the wand lodged into her cleavage and pointed it at Bendu. Her eyes were twitching with a deranged conviction.

**Spell of Flame Burst**

A fire spewed from her wand, it expanded to encompass the entire room in a sea of fire. This very danger threatened to consume Bendu entirely.

The targeted man rose his hand in the air viciously, then grasping a ball of light comparable to the core of the sun. A transparent shield burst from his hand, surrounding Bendu's entire frame with a shield gleaming an orange tint.

**Inferno Aegis**

_Fire Shield 100% for 15 seconds_

**Fsssshhhh**

The flames bounced off of the orange transparency that has enveloped Bendu, a few embers remained as it died. The fire left nothing besides black scorch marks around the entire chamber.

"What are you?" Kirche knew that not a single person in Halkegenia could ever dispel illusions and an element of nature without a wand. This man was a monster inside of a human frame.

"I'm a god," he said without batting an eye.

"You dare claim to be on the same level as Founder Brimir?!" Kirche's contempt masked her accusation.

"You misunderstand, I'm not stating that I'm on the same level as your god," Bendu said with a small smirk, and his eyes gazing onto Kirche's skeptical face. "I'm saying that I am greater than your god."

Bendu Olo knew little to nothing about their god Founder Brimir, but he was certain that he was stronger. With the underwhelming magic he has seen thus far, he truthfully believes that he could fight their god in a one on one battle.

"You. Arrogant. Man!" Kirche stressed each word with rage. "WHO ARE YOU TO CLAIM TO BE ABOVE GOD!"

"I am Bendu Olo, Champion of Cyrodiil, God of Insanity!" he shouted his name and titles with graceful fluency.

"God Complex," Tabitha audibly noted his personality.

"And rightfully so," he supported her accusation.

If the man had to admit any weakness it would be his ego, after reaching such an unimaginable power he had tasted a realm beyond right and wrong. He was a god, and he still feels the remnants of that power deep within him.

If any challenge were to arise, he would be confident that it would be nothing but a small inconvenience.

"Why would you be proud of being a God of Insanity?" Guiche queried, this was an absurd sphere of influence to control.

"Insanity is much more than foolishness and irrationality," his voice boomed with conviction. "Madness is the origin of ingenuity and intuitiveness. Without insanity, humanity would lose that spark of creativity."

"Wha-what?!" Guiche sputered. "That is absurd, a mind without order is a mind mind without individuality!"

"Ha! You have no idea what you're spewing on about, insanity is the epitome of individuality, while order is the essence of uniformity," Bendu walked towards Guiche and leaned in closer towards him. "Let me tell you a secret."

Guiche's eyes were radiating uncertainty. Bendu spoke in a loud whisper. "We're all mad here. I'm mad.  _You're mad._ "

"Why am I mad?" Guiche asked curiously.

"Because you tried to kill me."

* * *

**The Day Of Alexandre's Death**

**Dirt Road, Florence, Tristain**

"ARRRRRRGGH!" the Bonelord shrieked viciously. Two of it's four hands held broadswords, and they swung at one target.

Guiche.

"Ahhh!" Guiche held up a bronze sword in defense, both of the blades clashed with a metallic squeal.

"Arkta-hal ehlno!" the Bonelord shouted in Aldmeri tongue.

The Bonelord slashed both of its blades downward, only for the steel to meet bronze once again.

"Fear...Me...Mortal!" the skeleton translated its Elvish dialect towards Tamrielic.

A pillar of fire burst from the Bonelord's side. The fire wrapped around the skeleton's frame, erupting into a concentrated inferno. By the time the fires died, the skeleton was gone without a trace.

To the untrained eye, it would have been obvious that the fires were just intense enough to burn the skeleton to ashes. However, that reasoning would be wrong, put more simply, the Bonelord exhausted its 60 seconds of time here on the mortal plane, and it disappeared from whence it came.

"Ahaha!" Kirche laughed with uncontainable joy. "Your skeleton is nothing against my fire!"

"I'm sorry that I went too easy on you," Bendu gave a small frown. The trees aligned near the dirt path dropped a plethora of leaves. A single leaf fell to Bendu's hand, and he crushed it immediately. A black light immediately followed the action, and it spiraled around his forearm.

**Summon Daedroth Thrall**

_Summons Dremora Valkynaz Until It Dies._

A black orb manifested from the black light, lunging from Bendu's hand and detonated on the ground. A black spherical void hovered slightly above the ground. It was wrapped in purple flames, its presence swirled the gravel below it.

Two horns sprouted from a black portal, the creature's skin was a fusion of burnt black skin and crimson warpaint. Its eyes were as black as the midnight sky, and its ears were curved and pointed like an elf.

A black steel greatsword slashed from inside the black portal, severing the manifestation in half with a single swing. Its face became contorted into unrelenting rage.

"BOW TO ME!" a deep but distorted voice boomed from the demon. His eyes were more ferocious than any predator on the hunt.

"Can anyone tell me what that  _thing_  is?" Guiche yelled his query, he was aware that he had smart allies and might have a slight idea of what this abomination may be.

"A demon," Tabitha responded to Guiche, her drooping glasses were adjusted with her finger.

Tabitha has read about a profuse amount of demons in fairytales, they were all portrayed in an array of ways, but this man, if it can be called so, fit the profile perfectly.

The dremora had a full body of daedric armor with the exception of a helmet. Its most notable feature was his shoulder pads that were composed of spikes which curved towards his head. A majority of the armor was black but the cuirass had a crimson undertone, just like a heart glowing inside a husk of a body.

The dremora locked its eyes at the blond haired boy, radiating an invisible force which could only be described as bloodlust.

"HEEL, DOG!" the dremora demanded Guiche's obedience. His stance gave the impression of dominance fused with rage.

"What are you?" Kirche questioned. She has never encountered anything as demonic as this man. Her heart skipped a beat whenever it spoke with its dreadful voice.

"I AM YOUR EXECUTIONER! DIE!" the dremora bellowed his warrior cry before charging forward to its inevitable bloodshed.

Guiche was quick on his feet, he pointed his wand towards the void-born abomination, and he muttered quick incantation.

Three petals cascaded downward until it met the ground.

Circles of light shone off the ground and Valkyries rose from the ground, ready to fight.

All three of the Valkyries ran towards the demon. The three Valkyries raised their bronze broadswords and the demon raised his great sword.

"PUNY PUPPETS!"

The dremora slashed his great sword horizontally one time.  _One time_. And the three Valkyries were severed clean from the waist down.

The great sword had a trail of fire behind the swing of the blade. It cauterized the hole in the Valkyries' empty abdomens.

"I WILL EVISCERATE YOUR CORPSE!" the demon sprinted towards Guiche with malicious intent behind his great sword.

"Eeeeeeeeei!" Guiche screeched in horror as his possible death came closer with each step.

**Spell of Ice Javelin**

Tabitha composed a javelin of ice, which was a quarter of the size in width of the six meter demon. The spear was too large to use in practical mean, fortunately, it hovered above her staff and lunged towards the dremora, impaling said demon on its left shoulder. The large spear obliterated the daedric armor and tore the demon's left arm completely off.

"FEEL THIS!" blood spewed from the dremora's left arm. His right arm emitted hoarfrost as a weapon materialized above his hand. It was made of pure ice and resembled a spear. A more realist spear compared to Tabitha's spear.

**Icy Spear**

_60 points of frost damage on target_

The dremora reeled back his right hand and aimed the weapon carefully at the caster who ripped his left arm asunder.

He let the spear of ice loose and it sailed through the air at an unbelievable speed, flakes of ice chipped off from the spear as it reached the target with an impeccable accuracy.

**Spell of the Spirits of the Earth**

Clusters of gravel and rocks levitated from the dirt path and collected together to act as a shield against the incoming spear, courtesy of Guiche de Gramont.

The spear bursted through the rock shield, causing the spear to slow down its momentum. Thankfully for Tabitha, her staff snapped in half from the spear which diverted its path, giving her a gash on the right side of her abdomen rather than the lethal alternative.

"Hfff!" Tabitha took a deep and quick breath while wincing in pain. Crimson stained her white blouse and her open wound spilled her fluids.

All of these actions brought more and more leaves down towards the dirt road, to the point where the road seemed to be part of the foliage.

The rage in Kirche's heart doubled in intensity, when her friend sustained an injury, she snapped on the inside.

She pointed her wand at the demon and screamed her incantation.

**Spell of Flame Burst**

A spiral of fire erupted from the wand and chased the demon's every movement.

The inferno enveloped the demon entirely, casting only his silhouette in the dancing flames.

At first Kirche was overjoyed to hear a sound that was remarkably similar to agony, but as seconds drove by, the sound became clearer and resembled a demon cackling with uncontainable laughter, it filled the air with unease.

The trio exchanged glances with one another, they have asserted a while back that this creature wasn't human. But now, they could bet their lives that this creature was a demon.

"HAHAHA! YOUR FIRE IS NOTHING COMPARED TO MY LORD'S FIRE! YOUR RAGE IS LESS INTENSE THAN A DYING EMBER, MY LORD'S RAGE IS A MIGHTY INFERNO!"

"W-who is your lord?" Guiche had to know who was greater than this vehement foe.

"SILENCE MORTAL! MY LORD'S NAME HAS STRICKEN FEAR INTO THE HEARTS OF MORTALS SINCE YOUR CONCEPTION! HE IS THE PRINCE OF DESTRUCTION! LORD OF RUIN! -" the dremora strode out of the fire with no visible damage besides the intense heat cauterizing his stubby left shoulder. His eyes glanced at all of his foes, unflinching from the active flames that resided on his armor.

"MEHRUNES DAGON!"

**SSSSSSZZZZZZZZ-POP-SSSSSSSZZZZZZZZZ-POP**

The fire began to spread across the dirt road, leaves ignited with each passing second. Feeding the monster into a greater beast.

"Oh no! No-no-no-no!" Kirche didn't intend for her fire to spread. Her actions caused her team to be at a disadvantage since the demon brushed off the fire as if it were a tiny ember.

* * *

**One Day After Alexandre's Death**

**Fort Sheo, Florence, Tristian**

"Do you want to know where your strategy fell apart?" Bendu asked Guiche, who still had hard feelings towards the man.

"When we revealed ourselves?" Guiche answered, his eyes were weary from the entire ordeal.

"All three of you lacked proper teamwork, but the moment you all failed was when Kirche let emotion control her actions, she ignored her surroundings and let her magic reign against herself and her entire team."

* * *

**The Day Of Alexandre's Death**

**Dirt Road, Florence, Tristain**

"Kirche!" Guiche screamed his disdain, he didn't know what to do in this situation. "Tabitha, help us out!"

"Incapable."

She threw her broken staff at the demon, and the dremora's eyes seemed to entail that Tabitha was his next target.

Asking Tabitha to assist with countering the wildfire would've been the smartest thing to do in this situation. Since wind was her base affinity, she could have suffocated the flames. However, she was unable to assist any more in the battle since her staff was broken.

"ARE YOU PREPARED FOR YOUR DEATH?" the dremora had enough of this insignificant fight.

Sparks from the inferno drifted towards the dremora, circling around his frame was a fire, which left trails of orange. Soon, the flames crawled towards his form until the raging inferno was concentrated around the dremora and encircled him like a shield.

**Fire Storm**

_A 100 point fiery explosion centered on the caster. Does more damage to closer targets._

"I-I-I Do n-not feel good about this!" Guiche was first to crack voice, just like a prepubescent teenager.

"Whatever it is, I  _really_  do not like it," Kirche stated her concern.

Tabitha dropped to her knees, she had lost. All of her valiant effort to help her mentally unstable mother all went in vain. Her death would lead to her mother's death. A tear raced down her face while her demise was imminent.

Normally Tabitha kept a stoic expression both in her personal life and in battle, but with how this battle has been transpiring, she had her doubts about their survival as a whole.

In the spur of the moment, she decided to give an order that they would all agree upon.

"RUN!"

Without even processing who stated their next course of action, the trio sprinted as far away from the stationary demon as they could.

"SYLPHID!" Tabitha screamed for her familiar, which was followed by a few sharp whistles.

The dremora's silhouette was casted ten times his original size over the tornado of fire. The shadow did a ritual-like dance, where his hand moved in various directions, while his legs remained stationary.

His danced ended with a powerful slam from his hand into the ground.

The concentrated inferno burst outward, and devouring the trio in intense flames. It acted like a beast capturing its prey, ending its life in an instant. The jaws of the fire consumed the trees, leaves, foliage, and the combatants.

Louise and Siesta gasped in the distance, the heat from the fire touched their faces. The explosion of fire was so enormous that it annihilated a 100 feet radius of trees from his position, it erupted skyward and billowed with heavy clouds of smoke shortly after.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHRG!" they all screamed in unison as the fire burnt off layers of their skin. Their hair became non-existent as it transformed into ashes.

The smell of burnt flesh wafted around the air, along with the smell of burnt grass and wood.

Embers lit the dirt path that Bendu strode through. He enjoyed how well his conjuration fought, although he thought it was a bit overkill using such a powerful spell against weak foes.

He approached the dremora who immediately genuflected the moment his caster approached.

"LORD SHEOGORATH!" the dremora was halted from continuing with formalities, as this particular dremora was a Valkynaz which was the royal guard of Mehrunes Dagon. This creature had nearly the same mentality as most nobles in this world, as his position was shockling similar.

"You're hurt," he noted the dremora's missing limb, the shoulder was cauterized but it was still a problem that he was disabled.

"TIS BUT A FLESH WOUND, LORD SHEOGORATH!" the dremora exerted pride above all else, he would never admit the severity of any wound he received. It still made Bendu facepalm himself in annoyance.

**Heal Allies Legendary Wounds**

_Restore Health for 30 points for 6 seconds on target._

The first time he casted the spell, the bone of the missing limb began to construct itself, then it was followed by the ligaments of muscle to keep it all attached.

"Hmm," Bendu wasn't expecting it to work on the first cast, but it performed a lot more than he expected in a simple six seconds.

**Heal Allies Legendary Wounds**

_Restore Health for 30 points for 6 seconds on target._

All of the layers of muscle and skin manifested over the bone, until the crimson flesh became a healthy pink color. Shortly after the spell, the dremora was able to move his arm once more.

"THANK YOU, LORD SHEOGORATH!" the dremora placed his head on the ground, below his caster's feet. The only reason why the dremora was so respectful towards Bendu was because the spell brainwashed the conjuration in a sense, creating a mentality of absolute loyalty towards the caster.

"Raise your head and assist me," Bendu walked past his thrall, heading towards the three presumably dead students.

He placed his fingers onto Guiche's neck and there was a faint pulse, he did the same with Kirche and Tabitha and they both had a faint pulse as well.

"Servant, cast a healing spell on them and bind them immediately afterward."

"YES, MILORD!"

The sun began to set over the horizon, a golden hour reigned the land in an exotic tint.

**DOOOOOOOOOF**

Bendu shifted his head towards a curious sight. A blue dragon slammed its four legs onto the ground as it landed from its flight. A snarl developed on the dragon's face, as it faithfully guarded its master, Tabitha.

"A dragon?" Bendu glanced at the dremora who shrugged in at the sudden appearance. "Are you a familiar?"

The growl from the beast seemed to express yes, yes it was, and that just made things more difficult for Bendu.

"Do you intend to keep us from your master?" Bendu inquired. The question was much more than it seemed, it was intended to see how intelligent the dragon, more specifically to see if the dragon could understand human speech.

The dragon gave a firm nod, then Bendu smirked quickly after the response.

"LORD SHEOGORATH, I BELIEVE THAT DRAGON WILL ATTACK SHORTLY!" noblesque tone took over his barbaric accent. Apparently, when in front of nobility, the dremora reverts back to a proper etiquette.

The dremora armed his great sword in a battle stance, while Bendu rose two different blades, Lucien Lachance, and Duskfang.

Hoarfrost brusted from the dragon's mouth, forming ice across a majority of the dirt road.

* * *

**One Day After Alexandre's Death**

**Fort Sheo, Florence, Tristian**

"Did you kill her?" Tabitha spoke with a hidden venom behind her voice. Her familiar was the world to her, and if she heard that she would had died. Tabitha would be exactly like Kirche.

"Does this answer your question," Bendu followed his sentence with a sharp whistle.

The dremora thrall opened the chamber door, a blue haired woman was on his shoulder. She struggled with all of her might, but she was bound by shackles and her mouth was covered by a white cloth.

"Sif-tpher," the woman attempted to say.

Tabitha sighed in relief that the woman was alive, her familiar was safe.

"It was surprising that your familiar could take on a human shape, although my first battle with a dragon was a bit anti-climatic," it was the saddest feeling Bendu has ever felt, he had expected a grand battle between dragon and himself. But, the battle was swift and easy.

* * *

**The Day Of Alexandre's Death**

**Dirt Road, Florence, Tristain**

**Paralyze**

_Paralyze target for 10 seconds_

The mighty and powerful dragon fell on her backside the moment a yellow orb of light made contact with her skin.

The blue dragon slid across the icy ground till she approached Bendu's feet.

"That was...the most depressing fight I've ever had," sorrow claimed Bendu's voice. He was expecting an epic battle.

"MILORD, YOU ARE TOO POWERFUL FOR YOUR OWN GOOD," the dremora lowered his great sword across the dragon's neck. "DO YOU WISH FOR ME TO END THIS CREATURE'S PITIFUL LIFE?"

A tear crawled down from the dragon's eye. The dragon's end was coming very close and she couldn't even fight back.

"It depends, the spell should be wearing off soon," he kept his eyes glued on the dragon. "You can understand us, so, I'm going to make this clear. If you don't want your master to die right now, then tell us, 'Save her life!'"

The spell wore off from the dragon, but she stayed motionless as she was requested to do the impossible. Hesitation took over her body as her master's life was placed in her hands.

"Tick tock, tick tock," Bendu pointed his open palm towards Tabitha, a green ball of light developed in his hand, ready to lunge from it.

"Grrr," the dragon was unsure what to do, she couldn't break the promise she made with her master, but she couldn't let her master die.

"Make your choice now, say the words or let your master die," the green ball of light grew in intensity, until it finally looked like it was ready to launch.

The dragon couldn't take it anymore, a poof of smoke billowed from her frame instantaneously. A voice bursted from the cloud of smoke.

"Save her life!"

"Will do," the green orb shot from his hand and hit Tabitha square on the chest.

"NO! What did you do!" A naked blue haired woman screamed, she ran from the clouds of smoke. Only to be stopped by a great sword placed in front of her neck.

"Look closer."

The woman squinted her eyes, and she was shocked to see that her master's burnt black skin was replaced by healthy pink skin.

"How-why?" the woman couldn't find the right words to express her query.

"The spell I had in hand was a healing spell, she would have died from natural causes without it," a smirk developed on his face. "And it was an excellent ruse to make you reveal your true form."

Bendu was not done with this dragon, he will have his epic battle one day. Even if that means he has to train the enemy to be stronger than himself.

"Dremora, bound her up."

"Wait, what?" the woman questioned.

* * *

"You are a necromancer! Are you not?!" Louise accused. Her face was contorted into absolute anger.

"Did you kill them?" Siesta asked with a curious glance. Guiche and Kirche laid unconscious onto the minecart filled with copper.

"I dabble a little bit in necromancy, but I wouldn't call myself a necromancer," Bendu steered the minecart on the dirt path, attempting to reach Fort Sheo before nightfall. He shifted his head towards Siesta to answer her inquiry. "And no, they're breathing."

"Also, who is that? No, what is that?" Louise was concerned about the demon who carried her peer and some other blue haired woman. Although, she was more concerned on what sort of powers her familiar was hiding away from her.

"My servant is a dremora, he is the strongest of the lesser daedra. Essentially he is part of the royal guard, so he's noble, like you."

"A noble…" she stared at the barbaric demon and shook her head. "What's a daedra?"

"All will be explained once we pacify these idiots," Bendu was truly tired of dealing with nobility, or more specifically, little brats who assume and convict with little evidence to back them up.

"No Bendu, I need an answer this instant!" Louise demanded some sort of explanation, she has endured this journey with little to no questions. She felt like she deserved something for her patience. "You have reanimated the dead and summoned a demon, I want to know how this is possible!"

"My reality is different from yours, simple as that," he really didn't want to go indepth about his life or his achievements, explaining unbelivable facts while there were more pressing issues was an inefficient way of dealing with problems.

"That does not make anything clear, in fact it makes things more confusing!" it was outrageous that she couldn't recieve a simple or clear answer to her concerns.

"I'd hate to repeat myself, once everything is cleared up with the four imbeciles over here then I can answer all of your questions in one occasion," Bendu just hated to do the same thing twice, it felt boring to do something repetitive or monotonous. That's why he chose to be an adventurer after all.

"You're infuriating!" Louise grasped locks of her hair and pulled with slight tension, all of this was honestly driving her mad.

Louise walked with the group while losing herself in thought, eventually, she remembered something from a long time ago.

"Bendu, what's the Gray Prince?" Louise was hoping to gain some kind of clarity. Better start from the beginning, hopefully she'll learn what a soul gem is as well.

Bendu halted for a moment, and shifted his head towards her. "Where have you heard of that title?"

"Founder Brimir told me to collect items to help resurrect you, one of them was soul gem containing the Gray Prince. What is it?"

Bendu closed his eyes for a moment, he could hear the echo of the crowd's cheer and applause. The rickety metal gates opening up for both competitors to charge against one another. Sounds of swords clashing rang against his eardrums.

A smile developed on his face when he thought of the arena.

"The man was a champion, he lived, breathed, and trained to battle. He lived in the arena and died in the arena. The man was a pale orc, cursed from birth to die in misery," Bendu retold the tale of the Gray Prince, oversimplifying the major events in his life.

"An orc?" Louise's face twisted into disgust. Orc's were just a more brutish elf. "Why was he cursed from birth to die in misery."

"He was the bastard son of a vampire, and he couldn't live with the fact that he was a spawn of a vampire once he uncovered the truth. So when I reached the peak of the arena's ranks, he challenged me to an honorable fight, although I felt that he never wanted to win our fight," Bendu relived moments of that fight, it was a hard battle but he was certain that the Gray Prince's spirit was dampened when he learned about his origin.

After a few moments of thought, Bendu smiled. He captured the soul of the Gray Prince as a souvenir but he never expected his soul to jump start his dying body back to life.

The Gray Prince would forever stay within his heart, and he was content with that.

"He sounded very pathetic," Louise was honest, but she was happy that the abomination was dead.

"He died with honor, and on his own terms. Not many people can say that," Bendu was envious of the Gray Prince's life. "Enough about the past, I'll explain everything once our situation is all figured out."

* * *

**Two Days After Alexandre's Death**

**Fort Sheo, Florence, Tristain**

"To start off our lessons today, I'm going to be talking about Point Theory," Bendu began his lecture.

"Bendu!" Louise raised her hand.

"Save your questions till the end of the lecture please." Bendu wanted to stay on task with his lecture.

"This is a measurement to gauge human limitations and intensity. The units of measurement, or  _points,_  serve two purposes. Firstly, it measures your vitality, stamina, and your magicka well, to determine your limitations on how much damage you receive or how much is required to heal you, how much energy you can exert, or what type of spell you can utilize. The second purpose is to measure the intensity or damage in regards to spells and weapons. With spells, the magnitude of a spell determines how powerful or potent a spell may be, while also gauging how much of your magicka well will be exerted to cast the spell. While the intensity in weapons shows how much damage will be inflicted onto your vitality," Bendu lectured on until a thought crossed his mind. "Have I lost any of you yet?"

Siesta rose her hand shly. "I'm still confused."

"Alright, how about I show an example," Bendu picked up a rusty dagger and slit the top part of his index finger. "This dagger did one point of damage, or its equivalent, a small cut."

**Heal Minute Wound**

_Heals 1 point of damage on self_

The wound on Bendu's finger quickly vanished as it was before the injury. "The spell I used healed one point of damage, thus showing the relationship between intensity and our limitation."

Louise rose her hand, which was promptly picked. "You mention before that spells and weapons under the category of intensity which you related to damage, but you healed yourself. Does that mean that intensity also works with restoration as well?"

"When I mean intensity, I don't mean damage solely, unless it's a weapon which is meant to serve the purpose of damaging an enemy. Spells under the category of intensity just refer to how much they draw from your magicka well, as well as how much damage or healing the spell will apply, it determines the level of the spell, if you will."

Louise rose her hand once more, which was promptly picked. "Why are they here?"

Louise pointed out her four peers who attended the lecture as well. Kirche, Guiche, Tabitha and her familiar.

Luckily, Tabitha's familiar wore a crimson set of robes with a sunset embroidered at the center of her chest.

"They all requested to become my pupils as well, all with their own intentions in mind," Bendu shuddered a bit when thinking about Kirche's intentions, she would definitely use it to enact revenge. But Bendu always enjoyed a challenge and this one would be fun.

* * *

Bendu walked outside of Fort Sheo, after dealing with the all of the nobles he needed some time to himself.

_I battled Jyggalag, I nearly killed three kids, and I'm training six students at once. Things couldn't get more complicated._

_**Oh, but they can, mad one, they certainly can.** _

Bendu slowly shifted his head towards the bed of flowers to see that they all morphed into the shape of Sheogorath's head. Some of the flowers that acted like his lips moved like they encountered a soft wind.

"Sheogorath…?"

_**In the flesh. Or better put. In the flowers.** _

"Sithis…"

Bendu spoke to the void itself, asking the everlasting void a single question.

"Why do you hate me?"

**Oh don't be that way, you're my champion, act like one!**

"I haven't heard from you in so long, and this is how you greet me?" Bendu was sincerely reconsidering whether or not he should have ever entered Sheogorath's realm. "Where have you been?"

**I've always been around you, metaphorically, literally and metaphysically.**

"What?" Bendu was honestly lost.

**Haven't you notice some strange things? Such as a bandit leader killing everyone around him and himself.**

"I was wondering about that-"

**It wasn't a stroke of luck! I did it! ME!**

"Well thank you but-"

**Also, I need to tell you something important, something I should've said a while ago.**

"What is it?"

**Jyggalag.**

* * *

**One Month After Alexandre's Death**

**Royal Palace, Tristainia, Tristain**

"You have requested me, Princess Henriette," the man bowed in front of the princess. He had long silver hair and a goatee. His hat was long and accompanied by a feather.

"Yes, Viscount Wardes, I require your assistance," Princess Henriette sat upon her throne, and the viscount genuflected on the velvet red carpet.

"I am at your disposal," his head drooped toward the ground respectfully.

"With your special ability and your hidden talent, you are the only person fitted for this job," the princess presented a plastic smile. "Retrieve, Bendu Olo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note From Gray Q. Gregory
> 
> If you wish to comment, I will reply.  
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Special Thanks to Jkysler and Surprisingly_Blank
> 
> Until Next Time...


	7. Chapter 6  Clarity Through Deliria

Chapter 6 Clarity Through Deliria

**Two Days After Alexandre's Death**

**Master Bedroom, Fort Sheo, Tristain**

"Damn it, and it was my favorite set too," Bendu muttered in irritation. His eyes were locked onto his tarnished clothes. The back side of his red and purple suit had a burnt hole from his fight with the three stooges. "I need to find a tailor now...great…"

The fearless swordsman resorted to using casual clothes to deal with the inconvenience. He wore a white wool shirt and blue overalls. Not his particular taste but that was the only set he could find in Fort Sheo at the moment.

Bendu occupied the master bedroom which was formerly owned by Alexandre Van De Velde, and it was much more luxurious than the swordsman could ever imagine. The bed was larger than a king-size bed, the sheets that covered said bed was an exotic red fabric. The bear rug on the floor was an unfamiliar species to Bendu, but its size was uncomparable to any sort of bear he has come across. There was no window and he was sure the reason for that was to ward against assassination attempts, although beautifully crafted quilts hung on the wall. Some of the quilts were worthy of a personal art gallery, while others were demonic with depictions of skulls and the undead.

He took a closer look at the skulls embroidered into the quilts and noticed that that they all had a similar feature, they all had three eye sockets.

**Donk-Donk**

"Come in."

The daedric servant opened the chamber doors with unusual care, considering the fact that his race lives for combat.

"THE CITIZENS OF FLORENCE HAVE COMPLIED WITH YOUR REQUESTS, AND THAT DRUNKARD CRAB DELIVERED THE PROPER MATERIAL," no matter how much Bendu requested the daedra to lower his voice, the servant couldn't follow his order. His vocal chords appeared to remain at shouting level at all times.

"Thank you-" Bendu paused for a moment, he's never held a familiar for such a long period of time. What's worse is that he never asked for his name. "I apologize that I haven't asked before, but what do you go by?"

The daedra didn't hesitate for a moment, "NO WORRIES, MASTER. MY NAME IS IMPOSSIBLE TO PRONOUNCE WITH MORTAL VOCAL CORDS, BUT IT TRANSLATES TO 'FETUS BATHED IN THE BLOOD OF ITS MOTHER'. BUT YOU MAY CALL ME GUAHALA."

"Hmm, interesting." honestly he wasn't surprised by the morbidity of his name's etymology. Thankfully his alternative name didn't mean much. "Have you constructed my altars?"

"NOT QUITE, BUT I'M AFRAID THAT THERE IS ANOTHER PROBLEM INVOLVING FORT SHEO."

"Oh? What would that be?" Bendu was now curious to what sort of problem arose.

"IT'S IN THE BASEMENT, FOLLOW ME, MASTER SHEOGORATH."

"That's good to hear! There's always lovely surprises in the basement," he stated with heavy sarcasm.

"THAT IS TRUE, MASTER. THE GREATEST SURPRISES YOU CAN FIND IN A BASEMENT IS ALWAYS HUMAN SURVIVORS IN THE PLANES OF OBLIVION. THEIR SCREAMS ALWAYS HELP ME SLEEP AT NIGHT," the sarcasm flew miles over his head, and Bendu had no intentions on rectifying his servant's ignorance.

"Speaking about basements, I didn't know we had one," Bendu thoroughly searched the entirety of Fort Sheo on his initial infiltration, and not once did he find a staircase that lead downward towards a basement.

They took the passage on their right when they left the master chamber. The cobblestone hall had fresh torches flickering every few seconds. A musty smell scented the air, it reminded Bendu of the Sanctuary. Some may call the Sanctuary a hideout for Dark Brotherhood assassins, but to Bendu it was his home.

The dremora halted after a short walk and answered Bendu's earlier remark.

"I THOUGHT THE SAME TOO, MILORD. BUT WHEN I ATTEMPTED TO FIND TOOLS TO EXPORT THOSE BANDIT CORPSES FROM THE ALTAR CHAMBER, I FOUND THIS," Guahala opened a broom closet with assorted equipment, and a rug tossed to the side haphazardly, revealing a hidden trap door.

"What's down there?" Bendu's curiosity was peaked, hidden secrets usually meant hidden fun.

"WANT TO FIND OUT, MILORD?" the dremora glanced to his master with a mischievous grin.

"More than you could imagine, lead the way," Guahala opened the trapdoor with glee, and slowly descended into the dim illumination below. Bendu shortly followed his servant into the depths.

The ladder creaked with each step down, moaning in pain as if it would break at any moment. The darkness was thick, with only a small glow to guide them downward.

Both of them eventually stood on cobblestone, dying torches were aligned on both walls. The room ahead at the end of the hallway produced waves of heat, the waves made the walls appear to be wiggle and distort.

"My, my, what do we have here?" Bendu walked forward, curious of the source that produce such heat.

The door at the end of the hallway creaked open, to reveal something beyond Bendu's expectations. Another anomaly that shouldn't exist in this reality.

A skull with spiralling horns laid upon burning coals, the fire lit up its hollow eyes as it stood unharmed by the intense heat. A metal pedestal held nothing but supported the skull upright on its base. The burning coals were set at the bottom most platform of the device, which is assumed to be a golden offering box and it stood on the rim beyond the flames. Behind the burning coals was a large, circular platform with had a plethora of unlit candles around the platform. Most importantly, daedric symbol carved in the middle of the circular platform.

"WHAT IS IT, MILORD?" the dremora already explored the entire area, and upon seeing his master's surprised reaction, he didn't know what to make of the forge.

"It's-it's, an Atronach Forge," Bendu was at a loss for words, he's only had the pleasure of seeing one in his life. In the northern province of Tamriel, called Skyrim, there is a mage's college with this exact forge under its structure. Fortunately, Bendu has had the honor of forging an atronach thrall with this forge since he had owned a critical ingredient to make it operate.

"BY OBLIVION, THIS IS WONDERFUL NEWS!" Guahala was overjoyed to make such an impressive discovery.

"Don't celebrate yet, we're missing an important component," on further investigation, Bendu noticed the empty metal pedestal. "The pedestal is missing a sigil stone."

Sigil stones are hard to come by, they are a magical device that creates a nexus between the plane of Oblivion and the mortal plane. Unless they could gain access to an Oblivion plane, all hope of using the forge would be futile.

"Damn," Bendu was excited to open a new realm of possibilities, but those thoughts are all for naught. "Wait!"

The champion shifted his head to the dremora with a suspicious glee, "Guahala, I have a job for you!"

"WHAT DO YOU HAVE PLANNED, MILORD?" the dremora had a tingle down his spine, he wasn't excited for what he had to say next.

"Snatch me a Sigil Stone."

"...WHAT?" that was the last word Guahala said before Bendu place his hand on his shoulder, which was promptly followed by his instantaneous disappearance from reality.

"Nine Divine, I love the Band of Humanity," his joy was immeasurable, he finally got to use his ring on a daedra. "Banish Daedra on Touch!"

Bendu tapped his foot a couple of times, and gave Guahala some time before calling him back once more. As soon as ten minutes passed, he decided to call the dremora back.

**Summon Daedroth Thrall**

_Summons Dremora Valkynaz Until It Dies._

A black whirlpool manifested on the cobblestone ground, tendrils of purple flames erupted instantaneously. A sphere of darkness collected above the whirlpool.

The dremora rolled out of the black portal, trails of red hot fire followed his entire frame. He laid on the floor while panting endlessly as he exhibited fatigue. He raised a dark wine colored sphere with one hand, and said softly. "I...Hate...You…So...Much...Rage..."

"Hey, you didn't shout, good on ya," Bendu snached the spherical rock from his hand, and admired it closely. It had intricate markings, although most of the stone was black, a bright wine color shined from it's core.

Bendu strode towards the dwemer creation, and guided the sigil stone to the metal pedestal, above the demonic skull.

The machine flared up with screeching metal as the large circular platform rotated like an elaborate lock. All of the candles lit up spontaneously after the platform lost motion. The daedric symbol etched in the middle of the platform glowed an eerie purple.

The coals from the forge grew more furious, and smoke billowed in dense amounts. The smell was enough to bring a tear to your eye.

"I see that you started the device, yet you didn't pay the price," a shrill voice spoke from the shadows. "You must be very smart, truly a genius at heart."

"A man of rhymes, yet a coward oftentimes?" Bendu jeered back at the disembodied voice. "Now show yourself, or are you an elf!"

"Ha. has Alexandre died? If not I may hide," it said in a singsong voice.

"You mean the leader of the bandits?" Bendu had enough of rhymes for one day, unfortunately he felt that this hidden guest may not have had his fill. "He's dead."

"Oh joyous times, he finally paid for his crimes!" the man stepped out of the shadows. He wore a jester's outfit, it was checkered with white and black diamonds. His face was covered by a hollow troll's skull and he flaunted a small stick with a baby goblin's skull mounted at the top. "It begs the question, who do I owe for this succession?"

"That would be me, I took his head," Bendu informed the man. "And who are you, residing in my new fort?"

"I am the man from a lullaby, but many call me Gemini," the scrawny man took a deep bow, then rose back up exuberance. "Something I like to prattle, is that I am Master of the Cattle."

"The cattle?" Bendu was confused by the title.

"Oh right over there, it's filled with despair," although it wasn't visible, both Bendu and Guahala could feel the wide smile underneath Gemini's troll skull.

Gemini skipped and danced all the way towards one of the three passageways in the Atronach Forge room. If the entry passage in front of the forge was used to dictate directions, the passage they were taking the left passage.

"Ooooh, I call this the Chamber of Sacrifice," the man gave a deranged laugh. "Everyone would have been the offering price."

A large chamber door creaked open, courtesy of Gemini. The sight before Bendu was a surprising sight. A profuse amount of cells lined up both sides of the walls, but thankfully the amount of prisoners were only about nine.

"Is this all of them?" Bendu asked tonelessly.

"Only a few souls remain, thousands stay on a different plane," Gemini said ominously.

"I TIRE OF YOUR RIDDLES JESTER!" Guahala was no fan of speaking in cyphers.

"Are you saying that they're dead?" Bendu allowed the tips of his fingers glide across the metal jail bars, while walking past the cells and observing its inhabitants. All of the prisoners were elves, and they seemed to either be starved or emaciated. They all showcased fear in their eyes as he glanced at them.

"They haven't experienced death's embrace, yet, their souls are in a different place," his shrill voice was torturous to Bendu's ears.

"Guahala!" Bendu called him like a dog.

"YES, MILORD!" the dremora saluted his superior.

"Grab a quarter of our food supply and bring it down here, these elves are famished," nearby prisoners widened their eyes at this statement, food was given in small rations among them. Many of them have been starved to death for unknown reasons. But hearing a human was going to feed them was too good to be true, some began to cry tears of joy. "Keep the others in the dark, they hold hardships against elves, we'll figure where to place them instead of this decrepit hole."

"YES, MILORD!" the dremora left post haste, he didn't want to disappoint his lord and be sent back to Oblivion. If he were to be sent back, their would be many hours of torture awaiting him for stealing a sigil stone. He shuddered at the thought of going back now.

"How very kind, helping elves in a bind," the jester said in a singsong voice. His jester's hat had bells that jingled and jangled at every sway of the head.

"Yes, yes, riddles, rhymes and compliments," Bendu brushed off the man's mannerisms. "Show me to the others, and make it quick."

"Of course, as quick as a horse" Gemini skipped back through the hallway towards the Atronach Forge. Bendu was getting more and more irritated by the jester with every moment he spent with him. His constant rhyming made him want to slit his own throat.

"We're back to where we were before," Bendu glanced at the demonic forge with eyes filled with excitement, the possibilities were truly fascinating.

"If you wish to understand the situation, you have to understand their frustration," the jester began with an ominous exposition. "Alexandre attempted to become a god, something that everyone would applaud. He carved a way to glory, but it was all too gory. He found this forge and an idea struck, it all came together when he met his first elven schmuck. The forge was unwilling to work for the man, so he experimented with his new plan."

Gemini jumped and danced down the last passageway, getting all the more excited to proceed forward. The longer they traveled the louder a chorus of moans grew. Bendu's curiosity became more furious with each passing second, what kind of idea was Alexandre planning.

The jester halted, and crept his hand up to his mask. His hand trembled and shivered as he removed the skull. A deranged face met Bendu, and a wave of unease ruled the atmosphere. Gemini had heterochromia iridium, one of his eyes was a dark green while the other was a bright orange. Those colors reminded Bendu of the two domains of the Shivering Isles, Dementia and Mania. This man was honestly insane, which just made him all the more trustworthy to Bendu. These type of people is his people, and Sheogorath said it himself. He may not be within Bendu, but he is always around Bendu.

"Are you ready for the surprise, this is every elf's demise!" the jester cackled hysterically while swinging the door open.

**Gaaaaaaaaaaaaah-Gaaaaaaaaaaaaah-Gaaaaaaaaaaaaah**

Just like the previous prisoner chamber, the walls were lined to the prim with cells, but this time every cell was overpacked with occupants. Countless hand reached through the bars to grab the living.

"Zombies?" Bendu wasn't so surprised to the see the undead, he's come across enough of the living dead to last multiple lifetimes.

They were all scrawny, naked elves. All of them were malnourished and incredibly pale. It would be easily assumed with their red glowing eyes that they were not alive anymore.

"Draugr they are, all too ready spar. What makes them different from zombies, is that they don't need their bodies," Gemini had a painfully wide smile, his teeth glittered with a white shine.

"They don't need their bodies?" Bendu was confused now.

"They're all ghosts, who likes their hosts," the jester was just shaking with excitement to see what Bendu would do next.

"How were they made," the undead always disgusted him, sure he had undead conjurations but these creatures were made by ending innocent lives all too early.

"The forge's malfunction had an inverse-function," Gemini entailed the sinister activity. "Steal a heart and place a body on the stage, then reanimation lifts the soul into a rage. All of the draugr were controlled by a ring, and that was owned by Alexandre their king."

"How does the Atronach Forge raise the dead?" Bendu was at the epitome of bewilderment. How was the forge used for anything other than summoning conjurations?

"Pfft, Atronach Forge is a misleading name, that was never the Dwemer's aim." this struck a chord with Bendu, this madman knew about an unknown race. Bendu observed the jester with more curiosity. "Human only uncovered what was suffice, but there is much more to this device.

"How do you know this much about dwemer or their forge?" Bendu needed to know more about this mad man.

"I am a blasph-emer, simply a mad dw-emer," Gemini took off his hat, and revealed his ear which were half cut. The pointed ears were no longer pointed.

"You really forced that one, didn't you?" a semi rhyme was a rhyme, although he had to give him some credit, not many things rhyme with dwemer.

"Do you know who I am?" Bendu wanted to see if his influence still reached mad men.

"HA! I may be be mad but I am no fool, you are an insane jewel. King of every contradiction, madness is your jurisdiction. I would be the dumbest of all if I never recognized, when right before me is insanity vocalized. You are the voice of the madman's wrath, you are my god, Sheogorath!" the mad jester raved in praise, he quickly genuflected after speaking his identity.

"How could you tell?" Bendu asked softly.

"I've alway been drowned in his sound, I've made my choice with his voice," the jester placed his forehead on the ground with incredible force. "Please, allow me serve you, I will do anything on your cue."

Bendu cupped his chin and gave this sudden request a little thought, then he quickly glanced at his clothes. A single thought popped in head and he grinned with inane pride.

"I have one question for you," Bendu's voice was modulated and his face locked on the jester's frame.

"Ask anything! I will do everything!" the jester pleaded with a playful smile.

"Do you know how to tailor clothes?" Bendu questioned, expecting a positive answer.

"Who do you take me for?" Gemini jested. "This is nothing but a simple chore."

* * *

"Is this what you need? Surely it fits your creed," Gemini stepped back from his masterpiece. Bendu rotated slowly to show the jester's tailor job.

"Hmm, not too bad, not too bad," Bendu glanced at the three piece mirror set.

He admired the cloak, it had small rows of steel attached to the cloak to add a layer of protection. The fabric of the cloak was a royal purple embroidered with nearly a thousand bright violet faces. The cloak covered the entire body, which added the ability to hide weapons.

Underneath the cloak was a split color suit, one side had variations of dark green hues, while the other side had variations of bright orange hues. The green side was decorated with demonic if not twisted mushrooms that matched the color and dead tree branches that stretched across that side like veins. The orange side had puffy and happy tone to its decorations, it had orange mushrooms and colorful flowers. Dual purple butterfly pins were on the collar of the suit.

To a regular person, this design would appear to be a train wreck of fashion if they ever saw one. To a madman, this was the epitome of insanity embedded into clothing. Remnants of the Shivering Isles were apparent in the design.

Bendu gave a wild smile to his reflection, and he tipped his purple ivy cap. "You did a fantastic job, Gemini."

"Thank you my lord, hopefully you don't grow bored," Gemini completed the task rather quickly for a man who's never tailored a suit before. It just goes to show how smart a dwemer can be, even if he's a little insane.

"Did you complete the altars?" Bendu inquired in a silvery tone.

"Of course, I've fixed the problem at its source," the jester's face was covered by the troll's skull. He bowed to his new master with a satisfied glee.

"Did you serve Alexandre?" Bendu was curious why an elf was free while the others were chained down.

"He was my master for a time, but that was in my prime. That was all in the past, my new master is my last."

"Hmm, that reminds me. Have you finished the clothes for the others?" the champion was concerned about clothing the prisoners.

The jester simply nodded to his master.

"Grab the clothes and follow me."

The jester and his master went down the hall towards the broom closet, and they swiftly descended down the ladder. As the champion approached the forge, the smell of burnt flesh tainted the air. A smile grew on the man's face, as the thought of dead draugr blessed his mind. Bendu had ordered his dremora to burn all of the undead and the ghosts occupying their hosts.

They took a left from the entry passage, strolling towards the Chamber of Sacrifices. As soon as they entered the chamber, he was greeted by kneeling elves and an angry dremora

"What bothers you Guahala?" Bendu has grown accustomed to his dremora's casual face of constant rage. Although his frame radiated an air of execution.

"THESE MORTALS RESENT YOU AFTER YOUR KINDNESS! MAY I END THEIR PITIFUL LIVES?!" the dremora had at least some kind of patience, he wouldn't kill a person without his master's consent. Unless they held a hostile stance that threatened his life, of course.

"No need for such extreme measures," the champion held his hand up to the dremora to pause. He walked up to the nine kneeling elves and spoke in a modulated tone. "Raise your heads, you've suffered enough."

The elves glanced at one another, sweat dropping from their foreheads. They were unsure what to think about the situation. Was this a test? Would the first one to rise die?

One of the few children among the prisoners took the courage to rise to the man with an odd sense of fashion. It was a boy around the age of eight or nine, and his silver hair was past his shoulders in length.

"Come on, a boy has more courage than the rest of you," Bendu walked towards the young boy and kneeled down to meet eye to eye. "Where are you from?"

The boy drug one of his feet across the ground before softly speaking. "I was born here…"

"Hmm, how do you feel now with food in your belly?" Bendu gave a little light hearted chuckle.

"Better than before...uh...mister…" the boy was never introduced to the man, so he did his best to be polite.

Bendu tussled with the boy's hair before chuckling again. "Call me Uncle Sheo."

The champion rose from his kneeled state and glanced at the rest who reluctantly genuflected him.

"Rise," he commanded sternly.

The rest of the elves slowly got to their feet, their was still an unnatural fear in their eyes that Bendu's kindness was nothing but a facade.

"Where are you elves from?" silence followed suit of the question, before one older looking elf spoke in a low tone. "Might I ask why you would like to know?"

Bendu stared at the old elf and just smiled. "I want to send you all back home, but if you don't trust me, it's alright."

The champion walked away, and opened the chamber door. "You are all free, do as you wish."

Before he had a chance to leave, the little elf boy ran up Bendu and tugged on his cloak. The dremora was quick to act, he aimed his sword for the boy's neck. That was until Bendu immediately rose his hand to halt the dremora.

The champion patted the boy's head. "What's on your mind little one?"

The elven boy didn't know how to phrase it, but he wanted to know. "Are the bad men gone…"

"Yes, of course the bad men is gone," Bendu was enlightened by this kid, there were not too many children in Cyrodiil. It was too dangerous to even be on the streets.

"We don't have a home, Uncle Sheo," the boy said in a brittle voice. His frame trembled at the fate of the unknown.

"You don't have to worry, you are free to do as you wish, if you want to stay...so be it," Bendu made his offer, which would also extend to all the other elves in the room.

"Will you hurt us...like the bad men?" the child was sobbing in between his pauses.

"..." at that very moment, Bendu wished he killed every bandit himself. He took a deep breathe before a green glow manifested in his hand. All of the spectating elves gasped, expecting the worse. The child closed his eyes with incredible intensity.

A warm glow greeted the child's entire body. All of the marks and skirmishes in the past healed in an instant.

"I will not hurt you, if you wish to stay, I will help you grow," Bendu was honest, this boy has been through a lot and if he were to stay...there would be few to match his power.

The boy stared into the champion's eyes. He was practically observing the depths of his soul.

"I want to stay with you, Uncle Sheo," that warmed the champion's heart to the core. He never raised a child before, this would be an interesting experience.

Bendu stared at the rest of the elves. "If you want to leave, you may leave, if you wish to stay, you may stay. Make your choice."

The elves were bewildered, humans have never offered a choice for elves. They have always been and always will be slaves. But this man provided a golden opportunity.

Five of the nine elves stood up and went towards Bendu. They bowed and gave their gratitude. They left through the door, with freedom awaiting behind the corner. They all wished to see their families once more.

The remaining four elves were three children and one young male adult.

"Why do you all wish to stay here?" the champion was just naturally curious.

The oldest among the four spoke as a representative. "Unlike the others, we were born in here, we have no homes to return to."

Bendu gave a simple nod. "Gemini, give them their new clothes."

"Can do, oh ooh!" the jester was entranced at his own work. The clothes were robes that had two separate colors, green and orange.

"I will feed you, give you beds to sleep on, and train you to defend yourselves from subjugation," Bendu foretold their benefits. "But I am training other pupils, all of which are conditioned humans who despise elves."

This statement made all of elves frown in disappointment.

"Why do they hate us...what did we do?" the young boy asked, he didn't know why they were so hated.

"Because their ancestors hated yours," Bendu would assume that was the problem.

"An-cessty-toor?" the young child didn't understand the word.

"It's hard to explain, it's your great-grandparents."

"What are parents?" the child asked innocently.

…

Bendu felt a sadness he's never felt before, obviously this kid didn't have living parents but the fact that he didn't know what they were was all the more heartbreaking.

"We'll talk about this more in the future," he wasn't going to go down that path.

A thought suddenly dawned upon Bendu as he almost forgot about something. He needed the elves to remain in plain sight without raising a ruckus.

"We're going to hide your ears."

* * *

The altar room was being remodeled, the bandit corpses were transported to a makeshift freezer room for further experimentation. The wooden pews were burned to ashes to save more room. And the central altar upon the elevated stage was replaced by an overwhelming throne.

On the lone throne sat the champion with his cloak partially open. He stroked his black beard in contemplation as he thought which schools of magic fit what students.

Gemini was juggling torches at the right of the throne, while Guahala was standing guard at the left of the throne. The four elf servants were evenly distributed on both sides.

The elves wore elegant robes with their hoods covering their heads. As a contingency plan to hide their identities from his pupils, he ordered his servants to cover their heads with white bandages.

Torches were placed on each of the ivory pillar, and the white marble floor was cleaned of any crimson stain, as well as polished.

A red carpet was laid out from the entrance to the champion's throne, the carpet was also created by Gemini.

The chamber door creaked open as his six pupils walked down the carpet towards the throne.

"Woah, when did you get a throne?" Guiche was the first one to point out the new furniture.

"Who's the jester?" Louise inquired.

"Welcome," Bendu announced towards his pupils. "There are many questions, and many answers in the future presented to you."

He stood up from his throne and shined a devious grin. "If you wish to be my pupils, you will achieve skills thought impossible by society. But! If you wish for me to take you under my wing, then I must ask you all a question." He glanced at each and every one of his students. "What do you hope to achieve, while I take you under my wing?"

Guiche was the first one to answer the question. "I want to become the greatest strategist known to man!"

Bendu understood why he would want to take on this path, he had a natural skill for planning and executing his ideas.

Then he was followed by Kirche. "I want to kill you!"

Bendu wasn't surprised, in fact he anticipated as much.

Sylphid spoke next. "I want to become stronger to protect my big sister!"

The champion was intending to make this dragon in human form one of the strongest among his pupils. He would have his grand battle one day.

Tabitha followed up on her 'little sister'. "I want to cure my mother."

Oh. Bendu was honestly surprised by the girl's ulterior motives. He would have to ask more about that in greater detail later.

"At first, I didn't want to train under you...but...I want to make my family prosper!" Siesta was always a girl who thought more about others than herself.

Finally, it all came down to Louise. "I-I… I WANT TO KNOW ALL OF THE ELEMENTS!"

…

Bendu analysed all of their answers, and he truly thought this would be the most fun he's had in years.

"Before we start lessons I'm going to be frank with all of you," he glanced at all of his pupils once more. "All of your training will be necessary for the future, a war will soon come into fruition."

"Are you talking about the rising tensions between Tristain and Gallia?" Louise asked.

"No, I've been warned that their will be a war between gods," Bendu enlightened the others on a fraction of the knowledge that Sheogorath shared with him.

While everyone seemed confused, he shifted his attitude from serious to a light hearted one. "Alright. Let's get started."

* * *

**Three Days After Alexandre's Death**

**Streets of Aalst, Aalst, Tristain**

Aalst was a ordinary village of less than fifty people, with such a small population everyone knew each other very well. It wasn't a stretch to say everyone was a sort of family formed not by blood, but by friendship.

Océane was a plain girl of a commoner heritage, she had a routine which involved her traveling to a nearby well every morning to procure pales of water for her family.

Before the sun could rise, this black haired girl would travel in the darkness to grab her first pales of water. The young girl by most people's standards was considered very beautiful. Her most treasured and revered feature was her ocean blue eyes. They had an unnatural property to gaze into the souls of every man that met her.

She wore a basic white dress that traveled down the entirety of her legs. And she carried two pales on a stick which was hoisted on her shoulders.

Océane approached the well and casted a pale into the darkness, when a rumble shook the ground. At first she thought that it was an earth tremor which horrified her to the bone. That was until a deep cynical voice disrupted natures harmony.

"My. My. An ignorant girl stumbled before a hungry beast!" unlike the beast's rage from his liberation three days ago, his voice grew softer and more terrifying than before.

Mafrecyr bent a tree that blocked his path and appeared before the stunned girl. Her legs were unable to move as the beast conjured intense fear into the girl.

Mafrecyr grasped the girl's entire body with one hand, and admired Océane's pretty little eyes. The girl struggled to escape from the monster's grip but failed. The beast appeared to be entertained by the girl's squirming.

"You look so...delicious..." Mafrecyr licked his dry lips as he unhinged his jaw. His mouth was just as wide as his giant head. Rows of sharp teeth jutted out from his gums.

Océane began to scream and frail at the terrifying sight before her. She started to bite the enormous hand holding her captive. Tears rushed from both of her eyes as her end appeared so close.

The beast tightened his grip enough to shatter her ribs and cause internal bleeding. Which caused the young girl to wail in severe pain. The beast smiled as his grip grew tighter and tighter until both of her arms were crushed and dislocated. Océane's eyes began to bulge from the intense pressure and agony she was enduring. It came to a point were the pressure was so intense that one of her ocean blue eyes popped from her eye socket and hung by a meaty string.

Mafrecyr chuckled at her torture and used his free hand to pinch her loose eye. Océane shrieked, screamed, and muttered incoherent sentences. It was until the beast tighten his pinch and tore out her eye that she wished to die.

The eye ball hung by a meaty thread over the beast's mouth, and promptly fell into his mouth to be devoured. He savored the texture and the flavor of the juicy eyeball.

As the young girl grew fatigued and lost the will to live, Mafrecyr grew bored of playing with his food. When they didn't want to fight anymore, he didn't want to play with it.

He placed the Océane's head onto his teeth, and she awaited silently for his jagged guillotine-like teeth to end her misery.

**KR-CH**

Her head shattered under his teeth, and fragments of her skull burst into every single direction. A fountain of crimson spewed from the beast's mouth. He consumed his victim's head after chewing a few more times. Right after that he quickly devoured the body like a bird would devour a worm.

Mafrecyr burped with a delightful tone, satisfied by his snack.

The beast traveled forward as every obstacle, rocks, trees, animals, and more have been obliterated. it refused to change its path even slightly, it wanted to reach Fort Mercer as soon as he could.

"One...Month...One...Month…"

Its crimson jagged teeth shined into a twisted smile when he thought about how strong a person had to be to take down Alexandre.

"MY BLOODTHIRST WILL NEVER BE SATED!"

The monster approached a village in the distance. His smile grew larger when he thought about the new appetizer of a village before the inevitable dinner of the fort.

"MORE. FOOD."

* * *

-Omake-

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'VE BEEN TOLD!" the dremora sang his marching song as the six pupils took endless breaths to their fatigue.

"Oblivion Gates are getting old!" the rest sang in unison. They all ran for what looks to be hours.

"I DON'T KNOW BUT IT'S BEEN SAID!" Guahala lead on the song.

"Those men always turn up dead!" they finished the song since they've been repeating it too many times to count.

"Whe-Hooph-n will we sto-Phoo-p running?!" Guiche screamed in complaint.

"What! Does running -Hooph-Phoo- Have to do with -Hooph-Phoo- Learning magic?!" Louise asked violently.

"THOSE THAT STRAY FROM THE CHANT HAVE TO PUT IN SIX MORE HOURS OF RUNNING!" the dremora was cruel with his regiment and expected the utmost discipline.

"WE HAVE BEEN RUNNING FOR SEVEN HOURS!" Guiche screamed in protest.

"FINE! SEVEN MORE HOURS FOR YOU!" Guahala added onto the punishment.

"DAMN IT!" Guiche swore from frustration.

"EIGHT!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note From Gray Q. Gregory
> 
> If you wish to comment, I will reply.  
> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Special Thanks to Jkysler and Suprisingly_Blank
> 
> Until Next Time...


	8. Chapter 7 Learning Madness

Chapter 7 Learning Madness

**Three Days After Alexandre's Death**

**Ardennes Forest, Florence, Tristain**

"Damn it! His light is dimming!" Kirche screamed in fright.

Bendu Olo was stuck between a rock and a hard place, quite literally.

Half of his body lay crushed between the fallen boulder and the ground, his internals turned into past within his flattened body. An arm held the boulders' side as he struggled, whilst his other arm remained bent beneath the rocks' weight. Blood poured from his mouth as his minced gullet regurgitated the precious liquid in exchange for precious air

Louis pushed with all her strength, only to achieve nothing, as her scrawny arm were incapable of such hard labor."

All seemed lost as not even with the help of the others could they roll the boulder off if their mentor."

Bendu felt Sithis reach out to him, his cold and merciless hands grasping at the opportunity to purge the world of another life.

It all began when he decided to teach his six pupils the art of magicka.

* * *

**Earlier That Day.**

**Ardennes Forest, Florence, Tristain**

"There are six Schools of Magicka" Bendu began from the very basics, knowing that unlike the hopeful magi of his tenure as Archmage, his newest pupils knew nothing of Tamriels' Aetherius based magic system.

"Alteration, Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion, Mysticism, and Restoration along with other minor practices like enchanting, runes, necromancy, rituals, alchemy and my specialty, the Daedric arts, not including the subsets of each school." The sheer number of practices had his newest students' heads spinning, they had lived and learned a magic system that only includes five 'elements' and the only variety and specialty could be found in how practitioners combine them. The extensive list was probably larger than all the combinations that mages in their world could achieve, and yet it was the tip of the iceberg, these 'Schools' as Bendu put it, were very general and encompassed very different spells within them that magi could spend their entire lives studying and specializing in.

The champion and his six students stood in a clearing within the Ardennes Forest, with trees surrounding then only 200 paces away. A small stream separated students from master and the mountain behind their teacher cast a ominous shadow upon Bendu.

"I've taken the liberty of choosing which arts fits you all best" Bendu exclaimed, waiting for their expected and inevitable critique.

"Should we not choose what is best for ourselves?" Louise puffed her cheeks and furrowed her eyebrows in slight indignation, looking quite like a chipmunk in Bendus' opinion.

"Yeah, what if we do not like what you've chosen for us?" Guiche continued, his voice haughty, as is expected from him.

"Believe me, I've taught students in every field and I've leant to tailor students in fields that fit them the most, judging from their desires, goals and proficiencies." Bendu rolled his eyes, yet his voice was sincere, as if he had experienced this very moment many a time, yet had not lost his passion, nor patience for it.

"Who do you think you are?" Kirche growled, "You don't know anything about me!"

A look of consideration overtook Bendus features as he weighed the merits of telling her just how  _well_ he knew her, in the end he decided that the very basics of his deductions would do for now; "you desire to kill me, and your  _fiery passion_  is less of a way of expression than a show of freedom and individuality, you're afraid of becoming another noblewoman that you actively mock them and those that genuinely desire to become them." Bendu lifted an eyebrow at the shaken Kirche as he continued "I believe that you were raised with expectations you did not meet and were then either forced into a desirable mold or you rebelled and were cast aside."

"You seek to prove that you are your own unique person through strength and experimentation, so therefore the schools of Destruction and Mysticism are the ones most compatible to you. It also helps with your goal of slaying a god!" He finished with a flourish, placing his hand on his chest and puffing himself up like a particularly prideful peacock, leaving no doubt as to who he was referring to.

"You would think that your head would have exploded long ago from such an over inflated ego." Kirche huffed, finally giving in to Bendu's experience and expertise

Louise had to beat down the impulsive scream of 'Heretic' that nearly forced its way out of her mouth, something taught to most children of noble birth. "So! What kind of mages will the rest of us want to be?" Louise's eyes suddenly swiveled towards Siesta "well,  _most_  of us…"

Bendu hummed and offered Louise a smile, "well my little pupil, none of you  _want_  to be a mage for the sake of it, you all have goals of your own and magic and magehood are merely ways of reaching them. Your goals are different and you have different skills and qualities that set you all apart, it  _is_ what I've based your fields of study on, after all."

He then gestured towards Guiche. "For example, our gallant hero here desires to become a leader of men, a grand general that leads armies. His goal is to surpass and impress his father, to make him proud. He has trained in the art of command for years and have become quite talented in guiding golems. So, considering his desire, his goal and his proficiencies, he shall be taught in the school of Conjuration and Alteration. One to give you pawns to command and one to strengthen said pawns."

Guiche couldn't quite help the blush that came over him, and nodded bashfully at his new teacher before quickly composing himself.  _Grand general_ he thought, it had a nice ring to it.

He then pointed towards Siesta. "You desire wealth and comfort, something you feel that people who have then, take it for granted. You want you and yours to have easy lives, to not toil away for the rest of your life for meagre earnings. Your goal is to amass a fortune with which you and your family can live happily, maybe even one day be able to ensure that  _every_ smallfolk could afford to live happy and easy as well. Your envy of the highborn nobles have led to you taking out your aggressions with petty thievery, stealing trinkets of varying value, honing your skills as a thief. You will learn the art of Illusions and Mysticism, one to ensnare the mind and the other to reach unreachable things."

-"A-a-a-ah!" Siesta stuttered out, she had not thought that she would actually be receiving any sort of actual training. Her enthusiasm took a blow however as a sudden explosion of "WHAT!?" rang through the group.

Kirche seemed exasperated as she kept shouting "Illusions? You're teaching blasphemous elven magic to a commoner?" she rounded on Louise "do you KNOW how dangerous that is?!" she then continued to rotate, mouthing her concerns to every member present.

Bendu had to 'cough' several times, each louder than the last to get her to stop imitating a bull. "I know that your first experience with illusion magic had not been the best," she scoffed quite rudely "but it is not an elvish-only art and neither is it your place to tell me what I can and cannot teach to whomever I desire."

Guiche made a noise at the back of his throat. "But isn't it dangerous to teach commoners such magic?"

"Is it more dangerous than teaching the one who desires to kill me Destruction magic?" Bendu raised a good point, but Guiche would have thought it most smart to not teach either anything, if he were in his position.

When all were settled, he turned to Tabitha, where he hesitated for a few seconds, as if in thought. "You speak little, yet show a level of dedication and determination not found in most, it's something I've only ever seen in those who have oaths to keep and duties they intend to fulfil. That level of stoicism can only be reached with a mind that is dedicated to a singular goal." He could see Tabitha tensing as he continued "I may not know  _of_ your goal, but its nature seems personal and important and judging by your desire to protect those closest to you and your talents, I would suggest mastering the arts of Restoration. To help your allies and to heal your mother."

Tabitha remained tense but she now had a thin smile on her lips, she might finally get somewhere with his help. And Bendu was reminded of another person who had duty and oaths suddenly foisted on to him, who had strived to honor them even if it meant his life.

He turned to Sylphid next and hummed in thought "you desire to serve Tabitha and from what I have deducted, your ultimate goal is to form a family." Bendu rubbed his chin as he took a closer look at Sylphid, she was a  _much_  simpler creature than what his other self remembers of Tamrielic dragons, those Dovah were prideful being of immense power, fragments of Akatoshes soul given form, they had the power to bring low mountains and reverse death and time itself, the dragons of this realm are dumb, glorified mounts compared to those godlike beings. "You shall be taught the art of Alteration in accordance to your draconic strength"

Tabitha nodded along, still in thought but paying enough attention to his reasonings as Sylphid bounced on her heels in joy.

"And finally" he turned his head towards Louise "you desire to prove yourself to  _yourself_ most of all. Your goal is to one day be proud of who you've become. Your prestigious level of magical power would make you an incredibly capable War Mage one day." he smile and Louise almost burst into tears from someone calling her a mage, "Because of this, you will mostly be focusing on Destruction." With a bit more caution he also added. "And maybe I'll also teach you some of the Daedric arts, they are usually primal spells that require great power but lacks intricacy, which would be perfect for you." Louise's little celebration dimmed slightly on his comment on her trouble with complex spells, but the fact that she would learn another art, one that he doesn't seem to want to share with the others made her mood soar even higher.

"With any luck, you all will become proficient enough in your main fields that you can safely branch out into those that catch your fancy" he finished and awaited their response.

"What about you?" Kirche was the first to ask.

Bendu looked at her oddly. "What about me?" his completely innocent tone grating on Kirches' already flayed patience, so much so that Bendu held up his hands in mock surrender. "Well, if you're talking about my specialty, I'm a jack-of-all trades and master of all" he said with a smirk in his voice.

Guiche seemed annoyed at him. "Didn't you  _just_  say that every subset of each school could take lifetimes to fully master?"

"I'm quite talented and I've had  _quite_ a  _long_ time to study." Bendu replied calmly, Guiches' tone having no effect on him.

"How long?" came a small voice, causing him to turn to the quietest of the bunch. Tabitha seemed to have finished what she was thinking about and was now brimming with curiosity, not that it showed on her face much.

Something seemingly clicked in Louises' mind, her mouth speaking of details she did not know of before. "Two-Hundred years old. You have been a Gladiator, an Archmage, and a Knight since you were twenty nine years old, most of that time afterwards you ascended to godhood."

Everyone present slowly fixed their gazes on her, a confused look in their eyes. Bendu however was the one most curious, he had never revealed his age to her, nor had he told her when he had become a Knight.

"So, if that's even true, then you're some sort of elven hybrid, a vampire, a humanoid spirit or that tripe you're on about being a god has some truth to it" Kirche griped, then seemed to do a double take as she fixed Louise with a concentrated look "You don't actually buy that, right?"

"She should" Bendu said absentmindedly, still trying to figure out this new mystery. There weren't much that could surprise the Prince of Madness, and less that could go unnoticed by him, so her having  _any_  information he hadn't explicitly told her is highly suspicious. "Curious" he whispered.

Dismissing all thoughts of mysteries for now, Bendu proceeded to snap his fingers to send a signal to four hidden figures which shimmered into view, finally shedding the illusions that he had placed on them. All but one were the size of children and carried a pair of books each and all wore orange and green robes with purple colored details, their hoods hiding their longer than normal ears.

"These will be your fellow students." the champion cued one of the -secretly elven- children to come closer. "Come here, Renfield."

"They have already started their studies, so for now your training takes precedence over theirs, for the time being they will keep Fort Sheo clean and supplied, whist you all catch up." He explained as he took the books that one of the children were carrying.

"So, they are servants," Guiche simplified his statement.

"No, they are students, just as you all are," he stressed their position in his domain. "They were slaves of the previous owner of my fort, now they stand on the same level as all of you, unless you or they shall prove otherwise."

"Pfft" Guiche could barely contain his amusement. "Don't compare me to a mere commoner that could not even defend himself from slavers."

"Abraham, show him," he ordered the oldest of the robed elves.

While the orange and green split colored hood covered most of his face, it seemingly didn't disrupt his concentration nor his accuracy. He held his hands up and clenched them, and following his action, an invisible force warped around Guiche. His amusement was stifled and quickly replaced by bafflement as he felt the entirely alien force surround his body like a cocoon.

"...huh?" that was all that could escape Guiche's throat before Abraham swiftly moved his hands to the right. Mirroring his movement, Guiche flew towards the right and hit a tree. The arrogant blond couldn't catch his breath, the hard slam against the bark gave him splinters on his back.

The other five could do nothing but gape at the unusual and fantastical display of foreign magicks the likes of which they've never seen.

"What-Haaaah-was-Heeeer-that-Heeee-for?!" Guiche craved air but only sharp intakes of oxygen would bless him.

"That was a lesson in humility," he was blunt, no matter what ordeal he threw at the blond, he still retained that arrogance. He indirectly popped his eye, nearly killed him, and held him captive against his will. This boy was infuriatingly stubborn. "What you have just witnessed was the school of magic known as Mysticism."

"That's Mysticism?!" Kirche was more amazed than anyone present, that sort of strength was exactly what she needed. She also filed away the hypocrisy she saw as the man that called himself a god was punishing a noble for his perceived arrogance.

"I'm glad  _you_ asked," he motioned for her to come closer, and she cautiously strode towards him, taking a moment to hop across the small stream that separated them. "Mysticism is one of the schools you will specialize in, it is a magical art that focuses on manipulating the animating forces in the world, magic, in other words." He took a moment to let what he said settle in. "What you saw was an application of a modified telekinesis spell"

"Mysticism is a very special school" he started to explain "it is the label given to new experimental spells that do not yet fit into any school. So as everyone else has a certain limit to the amount of spells in their schools, Mysticism is the one that adds to them and will most likely remain infinite," he was honest, some may say that the school holds very little useful spells compared to other schools, yet the 'Soul', the animating force of this realm and those within it will be a breeding ground for more spells to be devised.

"So the more I explore-"

"The more you may discover. Secrets may unveil themselves and who knows," he grinned "you may find a spell to kill me one day," this school was the only uncertainty he had in this world. He knew all of the other schools of magicka like the back of his hand. "This book contains the spell, Minor Life Detection."

The moment she received the spell tome, she attempted to open it. To which it was swiftly shut by Bendu. "Do not open it, wait until everyone has receives their gift."

He then turned to Sylphid, ignoring how Kirche stomped back to her spot impatiently. "Sylphid, please come forward." the blue haired humanoid dragon stepped forward, she had no idea what he had in store for her.

He presented her with the other spell tome with a devious grin, his excitement was hardly contained. "I present to you a spell from the Alteration School of Magic."

Sylphid stilled seemed apprehensive and confused about her choice of field. From what she knew of her 'sisters' knowledge, alteration was one of the tenants of alchemy, and alchemy was not one of the things she expected to excel at.

"What comes to mind when you think of Alteration?" he pitched the question. Already knowing that they had different ideas of the meaning of Alteration.

Sylphid was hesitated on answering, afraid of being mocked should she not know the answer. After a few moments of silence she meekly answered "Alchemy…?"

"Hmm," it was a valid guess in his mind, they have never heard of his magic till now, so he couldn't blame her for not knowing the answer. "Not quite, Alteration changes the physical and magical properties of things, living or other."

Sylphids' face slowly changed from confusion to understanding and then bafflement, and this cued Bendu to go further into detail. "This is an important school of magic for you to learn, when we first met you were defeated by a simple paralysis spell. But with Alteration you can create an immunity towards poisons and paralysis, as well as hardening skin or scales into something impervious by mundane weapons."

It was then made much clearer to Sylphid exactly what Bendu had wanted to achieve by teaching her Alteration.

"The spell that you'll be learning is Shield, please return to your peers."

The Champion of Cyrodiil then motioned the second robed child forward. This one skipped towards Bendu, and had a more feminine feel to them. She proceeded to hand her spell tomes to the champion after reaching him. "Thank you, Lucy."

Lucy then skipped back towards her elven group. After a quick glance at one of the books, Bendu called out another name. "Siesta, please step forward."

Siesta wasn't very cautious of Bendu, she was more nervous of the rest who were watching her every step. She could see the thought pass through their minds, she did not belong here. A commoner who was treated equally as nobles is a severe anomaly, even amongst the Germanics.

Their eyes were like daggers, stabbing into her back, as she trotted up to Bendu.

The champion wasn't oblivious to her change in behavior, she clearly felt uncomfortable around the others, but that would be fixed in time. "I present you a spell from the School of Illusion."

He could see that the tenseness to the idea of teaching Siesta Illusions had not passed, and sent the others a look when he sensed their hackles rising, making their words die in their mouths. He then refocused his attention on Siesta and continued what he had planned to say "The Illusion School of Magic involves the mind and senses of the caster and their target, it can charm, aggravate, conceal, silence, paralyze and command and a host of other things that level the playing field when it comes to duels of magic. One cannot harm you, no matter how powerful they are, if they cannot even see you." Well, most of the times "the only way for a mortal to beat an illusionist is for them to be an even better illusionist, or with intense preparations involving tons of potions and specific enchanted gear, this makes the Illusion School of magic one of the most dangerous ones to face, but also the one that needs the most study and dedication to be viable"

Siesta hesitantly accepted the spell tome from Bendu, already second guessing whether she should remain as his student or not. But the promise of finally standing on even ground with those she'd envied made her decision for her.

"The spell that I've provided to you is dubbed, Clairvoyance. Please return to your peers," Siesta did so. Giving a wane 'thank you' as she retreated.

"Up next is Guiche, please come forward," the blond boy strode towards the champion with utmost confidence in his steps.

"What shall I receive?" he queried the infinite possibilities that this man had to provide, he was assured that whatever he may receive, it will make him all the more powerful.

"Guiche, I present to you a spell in the Conjuration School of Magic," Bendu gave the tome to the arrogant young man.

"Conjuration is the art of utilizing powers from other realms, whether summoning spectral weapons," the thought brought a smile to Guiche's face, as he began fantasizing about how awesome he would be and how many ladies would he be able to swoon "or calling forth creatures from other worlds."

Guiche's face quickly paled as Bendu finished his word. "Summoning...a creature from...another world?" he gulped, there were sever punishments from the church if they ever deem him a demon worshiper because of this ability.

"Yes, the skeleton you saw me use during our combat was an undead being from another world, not from your world," it was a hard pill for Guiche to swallow, although he had his views against necromancy, the magic he was using wasn't technically resurrecting the dead, rather he was borrowing a reanimated creature from another world. "The spell is titled, 'Summon Skeleton'. Please return to your peers." He said in a semi-dismissive tone.

Guiche dragged his feet a bit on realizing his spell. It wasn't what he was hoping for but it was something at least.

Bendu then motioned for his last elven student to come forward, he walked with confidence in every step. Presenting Bendu with his spell tomes. "Thank you, Quincey."

The boy then reunited with his group, as Bendu analyzed the tomes given to him.

"Tabitha, please step forward," the blue-haired girl was very stoic with her motions. No one was able to even consider what she was thinking about at the moment, and Bendu liked that air of stoicism and mystery.

"I present to you a spell from the Restoration School of Magic," he handed the book to the spectacle wearing girl. She stared deeply into his eyes, anticipating his explanation with nothing but patience. Yet he could read her anxiety and hopefulness like an open book.

"Restoration is the School dedicated to healing injuries, curing illnesses, poisons, and diseases, the fortification of attributes, shielding and preventing damage, and also includes some spells that manipulate the undead in various ways, most commonly, causing them to flee," he lectured about the possibilities, but what stuck with Tabitha was the ability to cure illnesses, poisons and diseases. "The spell provided is named, Heal Allies Minor Wounds."

A visible smile grew on her face, as she walked away without the routine cue everyone else was given. She approached her 'little' sister and shifted her back to her. To which Tabitha received a big hug from Sylphid.

"Last, but not least, Louise, please come to me," Louise slowly stepped forward, she held her breath occasionally as the pressure and weight of expectations began to grow.

"I present to you a spell from the Destruction School of Magic," he handed the book to the smaller girl, placing it gently on her slightly shaking hands.

"Destruction is the mastery of 'spell effects' that harm the living and unliving things, and it includes elemental damage, draining, vulnerability, and disintegration magical effects," it was indeed one of the most aggressive schools of magic. Bendu was certain that Louise would be able to become a formidable magician should she ever master it.

She stood in silence for a few moments before voicing her thoughts. "In other words-"

"You will be able to bend elements to a degree that would put masters of any element to shame," Bendu patted her on the head as she gasped and quivered on the spot, hugging the book tightly to her chest. "The spell is called, Sparks. Please return to your peers."

Once everyone received their spell tome, Bendu gazed at the sky and reviewed the training he was about to put the through. He glanced at each of his six students in front of him and prepared for his first day as their official teacher.

"You may all be curious how only a book will teach you a spell, I'm ignorant to whether or not your world has developed such aids of teaching magic, but from where I'm from, anyone can learn a spell instantaneously by reading a spell tome," this brought shocked faces to every one of his human students, learning spells instantaneously from a book may be the biggest leap in magic that they have ever experienced. All of the nobles present have learned spells by memorizing specific words and movements of a wand to yield any type of magical effect. "Tamrielic spell tomes," he began to explain "are less books and more sealed magical artifacts, a reliquaries of knowledge in physical form, the moment the seals are released, the tomes will return to their original state as knowledge in the form of free floating magicka, where it can be observed in its entirety for an instant before it dissipates"

"Now! Everyone please open your book," as everyone opened the books, they only managed to glimpse at the strange diagrams and foreign scrips before the Tomes started sizzling and glowing within their very hands.

**SUSSHHH**

Each book spontaneously combusted into ashes, its contents burning themselves into their readers' minds without them even noticing.

"Congratulations, you've all learned the basics of a spell."

"Really?" Guiche was dumbfounded. "It was that easy?"

"Yup, that easy," Bendu reassured.

"How...do we use our new spells?" Kirche, along with everyone else, had no idea of how this magic worked. "Do we use our wands and chant the spell in an ancient tongue?"

"Nope," he had to make them throw away preconceptions of what they thought to be magic. "A wand is not needed, all that is required is to channel your magicka into the palm of your hand and think of the name of the spell you wish to cast, in time you will learn the exact details of the spell you wish to use, but for now, the knowledge is already within you and you need not know the  _hows_ and  _whys_ in order to cast them."

After his explanation, Bendu thought it would be best to set an example. "Like so."

A transparent wave of flame ignited above his right palm, it acted like a mirage, warping anything behind to anyone who gazes upon it.

**Spectral Form**

_Invisibility for 120 Seconds on Self_

He quickly clenched his hand, destroying the spell. Then the transparent flame quickly ate Bendu's skin, encompassing his body until he became more invisible than the very spell he held.

"Where did he go?" Sylphid queried. She perked her nose to sniff the air for a few moments, then she walked up to where Bendu disappeared. She began to poke at the air until she stated in a singsong tone. "~found you~"

"Hmm, interesting," a disembodied voice asserted. "You can find me, although my movements make no sound, nor is my body visible to the naked eye."

"Of course silly," the humanoid dragon stuck out her tongue with a silly expression. "I remember what you smell like."

A green and orange flame erupted on Bendu's skin, making him visible once more. Intrigue was plastered on his face as he stared at Sylphid. That was not possible, human nostrils were not sensitive enough for the task of picking a near odor-less man out in the wilds. Yet dragon ones were. His eyes narrowed as he decided to experiment a little.

"Attempt your spell," he ordered specifically at Sylphid, who immediately raised her hand and attempted to concentrate.

"~Ummm~" she sang her confusion for a few moments before whispering to Bendu. "What was my spell called again?"

"Shield."

"Yes, of course...I knew that…" she engraved the name of the spell into her mind and focused what she believed to be her magicka. A moment later a wisp of white manifested in her hand.

"I...I did it!" Sylphid was extremely proud of herself since this was the first time she summoned any sort of spell.

"Clench your hand, and let the spell slip through your fingers," the order was simply followed. To which a white gleam traveled across her entire frame.

"Good job," from what Bendu could notice, she wasn't using the spell to its fullest potential. Usually the spell should have protected the caster with 5% of its full potential, but by the looks of it, she could only access 1% of the spell's 5% capacity. "Cast the spell again in your true form."

An inquisitive brow rose high above her other. "As... as a dragon?"

"Yes," if his hypothesis was correct, then she could use spells as a dragon as well.

Her face became very serious, as she glanced back at her older sister, Tabitha.

Tabitha, gave a curt nod towards her familiar. It was common knowledge to those present that she was a dragon in human form. Although most have kept this revelation to themselves, Sylphid still kept immense respect for her master's wishes. The wish in particular was to keep her transformations as minimal as possible.

Sylphid took a deep breath and locked eyes with Bendu. Steam emitted from her skin, encompassing around her frame and magnifying with each passing second. A snarl came from the clouds of steam, and a silted eye appeared in the dying steam, fixated onto Bendu's eye. A gust of wind caused all of the steam to vanish instantaneously. Sylphid's wings coming to rest after summoning the great gust.

The bipedal dragon stood up straight with its blue scales glistening from the white mote of light hovering above her hand.

"Cast it," Bendu ordered the beast, he was growing impatient by the second. This experiment was becoming very promising.

The dragon's talon wrapped around the fragile mote, and crushed it with a menacing force. A brilliant white gleam shining across her draconic frame.

Bendu's eye's widened, he couldn't believe it. This dragon, no, this girl has exceeded the spell's limitations. Previously in her human form, she could only muster one fifth of the spell's power. Now in her draconic form, she's surpassed the spell's limitation. The spell was only meant to produce 5% of its full potential, she was able to produce 10% of its full potential. He did not know whether this meant that she would need half the time to master this spell or if it meant that she would always produce twice the results when she does. Either way, Bendu was unable to suppress his smile, thinking of all the  _fun_  they could have if the later were true.

He clapped his hand in applause. "Wonderful, just wonderful. Please return back to your human form."

A cloud of steam quickly formed around the dragon, then after a few seconds a girl came skipping out of it. She returned to Tabitha with a proud look on her face.

"You've all seen an example of how to utilize your spell, I believe the best way to learn is to experiment, so I'll leave discovering how to cast and mastering your spells up to you."

"Wait-Hold on!" Guiche waved his hands in the air. "You are going to leave us? Alone?!"

"Of course not!" this brought a wave of relief to Guiche, he was glad that he wouldn't actually leave them. "All of you will have partners."

…

That stated their confusion all in unison. "Eh?"

"I'm going to pair each and every one of together into a team," Bendu was ready to deploy his experiment. "Tabitha, you will be partnered up with Sylphid."

Sylphid began to tug on Tabithas' hand with a radiant smile, she was extremely happy with the decision, at least.

"Guiche, you will be with Siesta."

Guiche was the opposite of Sylphid however, to be paired up with a commoner had irritated him, even Louise the Zero would have been a better candidate than Siesta in his mind. Siesta was just nervous to be paired up with a noble, even if she didn't like him, she still had a fear of nobles ingrained deep in her psyche.

"Louise, you will be with Kirche."

"No way! I do not want to be with  _her_!" both of the aforementioned ladies screamed in unison. They both blinked and glanced at each other, before developing faces of pure fury.

Bendu brushed off their concern and stated. "We will play a game, all of the three groups anointed will be in a competition. The stakes will be high as the prizes include-"

He held up his index finger. "The ability to wield the strongest of powers."

Louise and Kirche halted their personal disagreements the moment they heard this prize. Their eyes began to glow with a lust for the prize. Both with their own incentives in mind.

He held up his middle finger as well. "The ability to make vast amounts of money."

This time Guiche and Siesta had their attention captivated. Guiche could practically see all of the woman crawling on him with mounds of gold behind him. While Siesta could imagine her family crawling out of poverty into prosperity.

Lastly, he held up his ring finger to represent three. "The ability to save or restore lives."

Tabitha and Sylphid had their ears perked at this final offer. Tabitha was in this to win this, with that last offer she could save her mother. While Sylphid had a small flashback of how helpless she was when her master was dying. They were both determined to win.

"What's the game?" Louise inquired, she was ready to play already.

"By the end of the month, we will see who will master their school the most," he chuckled at his setup, this would be interesting. "Each time you master a spell, you will seek me and show me how adept you are with your current spell. If I feel that you have gained the fullest potential the spell has to offer, I will provide you with a new one."

"Wait!" Kirche held up her hand. "This is already unfair, Louise can not cast magic, therefore I have already lost!"

Louise casted her head down momentarily. Before she had a chance to throw a comeback her way, Guiche also had something to say.

"I must, once again, agree with Kirche," he flipped his hair with grace as he flaunted his rose wand, which pointed at Siesta. "I am paired with a commoner, who has no experience in magic. There is no way I could win."

Siesta mimicked Louise's previous motion, their shared misery giving building a connection to each other.

At this point, Bendu couldn't hold himself back anymore. He just hysterically laughed at their predictable issues, and as he jerked back a tear of joy, he stated the obvious. "Tabitha and Sylphid will most likely win this competition."

"Then why pair them together in the first place?!" Kirche berated him.

"They both work in tandem and treat each other as equals. Their teamwork will bring them to victory. Which is the reason I paired them together." a devious smile grew on his face, as he stared at the problem stricken children. "If you can't put aside prejudices and learn to accept one another as your equals, just like Tabitha and Sylphid, you will lose. There's no other outcome."

"This still does not seem fair," Guiche complained.

"It's only unfair because you perceive it as such. If you wish to win, then you must learn to cooperate on a higher level than Tabitha and Sylphid," he was extremely proud of this experiment, this would be a lot of fun.

The game begins now!" he sliced his hand down in the air to signal as such, His elven students disappearing as he did so, "Louise, Kirche, come with me."

* * *

Bendu brought Louise and Kirche closer to the mountain, he wanted to conduct a special experiment with the two casters. Just like his newly formed hypothesis about exceeding spell limitations, he developed this one as soon as he witnessed Louise prowess in her duel against Guiche. The purpose of this hypothesis was to identify the dilemma about her inability to use structured spells.

The hypothesis goes as so. 'Louise cannot cast magic because she channels the entirety of her magical power into a spell.'

Considering the revelation with Sylphid and her ability to double the potency of her spells. Louise's ability could become much more volatile, acknowledging the fact that she has only had experience with scrolls, which have a mandatory limit contained within a vessel, rather than a spell which has a suggestive limit. But nevertheless, she managed to exhaust her magicka from scrolls...scrolls which require no magicka to conduct an effect. All of the more reason for Bendu to think more cautiously about Louise's training.

The reason Bendu has separated from the others and took Louise and Kirche was to lessen injuries, while also keeping the game between the three teams on going.

It wasn't until they reached the foot of the mountain that the team he was guiding alerted him to their arrival. Snapping him out of his trail of thought.

Louise softly spoke. "Why are we away from the others?"

"To avoid injuries," he was honest the fact of the matter, he wasn't going sugar coat it.

"Ha! Louise, even your familiar thinks that you're too dangerous to teach," Kirche mocked her partner with an unnatural vigor.

Louise had no words for Kirche, although that wasn't the same for Bendu. "Is what she saying...True?"

"Kirche is just toying with your mind," Bendu noticed how Kirche phrased that remark, it was not only false but suppose to create a rise out of Louise. "We came out here to make sure that you don't hurt anybody, while also excluding you from most of their remarks."

He glanced at Kirche, then stressed a certain word in his reasoning. "MOST."

It was from there, that he reassured Louise. "I don't believe you're too dangerous to teach. But I will not let an accident befall the other students, so we will train out here in private."

Louise was still skeptical how Bendu really felt, but she decided to move on with her training. "So, may we begin?"

"Absolutely," he shifted his head towards fiery haired noble. "Kirche, cast your spell."

"Of course," her large chest jiggled as she lifted her hand in front of herself, performing a needless flourish as she does so. She closed her eyes and thought of the spells name. A small mote of green light manifested above her palm, and she crushed it with unnecessary force. It caused a spiral of green light to descend upon her.

As Kirche recuperated from her small spectacle, she noticed that both Bendu and Louise glowed a brilliant pink light.

"As you may perceive, both of us are shining a bright light," he explained the blatantly obvious to Kirche. "That light is only shined by living creatures, as such, you will not yield the same effect with the dead."

As Kirche observed her surroundings more closely, something...weird caught her eye. Bendu's shadow also shined a bright pink, somehow, indicating that it had life to it.

Before she could ask Bendu about the anomaly, Bendu faced Louise, bending down on one knee to speak with her on her level.

"Louise, it's your turn to cast a spell," he patted her shoulder and gave her a warm smile. "I know you can do it."

She in turn, smiled back at him. "Thank you."

She pointed her wand towards the mountain, away from Bendu and Kirche to prevent injuries, and the forest to prevent a forest fire.

After a couple deep breaths, Louise carved her spell's name into her mind and focused on what she thought to be her magicka into her wand.

Her wand gave a few small sparks of electricity, all the while producing a low hum. The wand grew brighter and brighter with a cyan light.

Um… Louise…" Bendu was going to remind her that her wand wasn't needed, but she could not hear him as all her attention was focused on her spell.

The air seemed to tense up, as the spell took its time to produce an effect. Both Bendu and Kirche glanced at each other, their minds seemed to work in unison as they both took a step back.

"I can do it," the words were repeated aloud by Louise, who was confident that this would work.

Eventually the wand grew so bright that it was impossible to look at with the naked eye.

**booosh**

…

**BOOOPH!**

The wand blew up in her hand, blasting a manifestation of lightning clustered into a ball. The projectile collided with the mountain, decimating a huge swath of the natural structures side and causing it to erupt fractured fragments of rocks in every direction.

The only who could speak during this fiasco was Bendu, who spoke with an impressed tone. "Well, I'll be damned."

Then, almost immediately after that comment, a boulder size piece of rock fell on him, pinning the lower half of his body onto the ground.

"FOUNDER BRIMIR!" Louise shrieked in horror, she killed her teacher!

Kirche couldn't tear her eyes away from the man, he was dying right before her eyes. She should've been happy, but she wasn't in the least. He was dying from a force out of her control, and that wasn't what she wanted, she wanted to kill the man.

The pink light that glowed around his body, grew dimmer by the second in Kirches' eyes.

"Damnit! His light is dimming!" Kirche screamed in concern.

* * *

**Present. Training Grounds.**

**Ardennes Forest, Florence, Tristain**

**BOOOPH!**

**THUMP!**

Guiche shifted his head from his newest summoned skeleton, with his face growing paler than a phantoms.

"U-E-R…Ladies...was the mountain always missing a big chunk of itself?" the rest of his peers were already drawn to mountain well before Guiche's comment.

"Viscount Gramont," Siesta couldn't help but add a noble prefix. "It would appear that the damage was recently done."

"Of course-Of course…" Guiche was still pale from the idea of something causing the damage.

"Sylphid."

Tabitha gave a nod along with her familiar's name, and Sylphid acted immediately. The draconic beast leaped from a cloud of steam, and laid down on her stomach to allow her master on her back.

Tabitha quickly saddled her dragon, then glanced at Guiche and Siesta to do the same. Which only took them a second to act on the silent request.

Sylphid soared through the sky, breaking the sound barrier within a few moments of flight. Within seconds they approached the foot of the mountain, where Kirche and Louise were attempting to push a boulder.

The moment they landed, Kirche gave up on attempting to push the gigantic rock, while Louise never gave up for a second. Before Louise could notice the dragon and its entourage which could've assisted in her endeavor, she screamed a proclamation.

"I WILL NOT LET YOU DIE!" Louise did the impossible the moment those words left her mouth. The boulder budged, it moved slightly at first, then it completely rolled over.

Everyone's mouth came unhinged, Bendus' and Kirches' especially. Since they both witness this young girl make a large chunk of a mountain disappear, along with moving a boulder 3 times her size.

Bendu's left arm, lower abdomen, and legs were just splattered meat and crimson liquid that surrounded his body. A waterfall of blood rushed from his mouth the moment the boulder released his body from captivity.

His remaining right arm hovered slightly above the ground as he motioned Tabitha to approach him.

The blue-haired woman rushed towards the man's side and immediately knelt by his side.

His words were a silent whisper that no one could hear. But fortunately enough, Tabitha could read the words he was mouthing. "Heal…Me…Or…I...Will…Die…"

Tabitha immediately cupped her hands and laid them near his stomach region, where most of his organs were either rearranged or squished to a paste like substance.

An aura of azure blue light hovered under her hands, and slowly the organs that were squished formed back into their original shape.

But her spell, Heal Allies Minor Wounds, could only heal a small wound at a time. So, only some of the organs repaired themselves, but without bones and muscles and skin to keep the vital organs in place, then the effort would all be for naught.

**Heal Allies Minor Wounds**

_Restore Health for 8 points for 1 second on target._

So she casted the spell again, the azure blue light this time place each and every organ back into their original place.

**Heal Allies Minor Wounds**

_Restore Health for 8 points for 1 second on target._

Another, and the light repaired the fractured and shattered ribs. The structure and integrity of the abdominal ribcage recovered.

**Heal Allies Minor Wounds**

_Restore Health for 8 points for 1 second on target._

Again, the light shined on the torn muscles, reknitting the red skin over the ribcage and organs.

**Heal Allies Minor Wounds**

_Restore Health for 8 points for 1 second on target._

Once more, the light dimly lit over the muscles, causing a foam of pink but healthy skin to form over it.

**Heal Allies Minor Wounds**

_Restore Health for 8 points for 1 second on target._

Tabitha then fell to her side from the exhaustion of casting a spell 5 times in a row consistently.

Her dull eyes focused on Bendu's left arm and legs that were still in a critical state. She has failed to fully restore her mentor back health. In doing so, she has allowed him to die.

A small tear escaped one of her eyes as she stared into Bendu's pale face, and she was shocked to see the man fashioning a smile on his face.

He whispered words of encouragement to the young woman. "You did well, now I will do the rest."

**Heal Legendary Wounds**

_Restore Health for 30 points for 6 seconds on self._

An aura of azure blue spiraled around Bendu's frame, as it came into contact with the left arm, it immediately reconstructed the the bone, then it re-knitted muscles, eventually finishing off with a layer of pink skin. The same process could describe what happened to both of his legs. Any other skirmishes on his body were healed like he was never injured to begin with.

Bendu stood up as if nothing happened, brushing off his tattered cloak. His gaze then set on Louise, and a flood of speculation befell the man's mind. All of it boiling down to one single question.

How did she attain the strength to move a boulder? He saw no strength enhancing spells be cast, and he knows for a fact that she wears no enchantment for it either.

This dilemma reminded Bendu of a phenomenon that was unique towards the many races in his world. The phenomenon was tailored towards a species ability to survive in the world. Many call this ability a 'Power'.

Such as Orcs having the power dubbed 'Berserker Rage'. The Orsimer can unleash an onslaught of attacks that double in strength, while only receiving half of the damage from any attack. Although, this ability can only last one minute and can only be used once a day. But, merely having the ability and using it at will more than makes up for the limitations.

Bendu's race, known as the Imperials, have the power known as 'Voice of the Emperor' that can calm anyone down for half a minute.

Although it may have the same limitations as the previous power, it just shows how each race if both fundamentally different, biologically as well as spiritually.

So, what if Louise's race is different from an Imperial? What sort of power would her species hold? What sort of name would they dub it?

After a few moments of thought, Bendu decided to call this power something that may be unleashed in situational events, but with enough training and guidance, it could be unleashed at will. For the moment, Bendu would call this power, 'Hysterical Strength'

Louise had a frown carved onto her ashen white face, shaking like a leaf as she realized that she had nearly killed her mentor. "I'm...I'm...So sorry"

"Of course, Louise is responsible for nearly killing our teacher," Guiche chimed in. Alerting Louise to the other two teams who weren't present earlier.

"When did you get here?" Louise's frown deepened. "And why didn't you bother helping us?"

"We just got here, Louise the Zero," his remark reminded Louise that she may never live down her pitiful moniker.

"That's enough out of you, Guiche," Bendu could never stand bullying, even if it was a simple title. "Any more remarks and I'll have Guahala implement more intense exercises in the future."

His threats quickly shut Guiche up.

Their mentor walked with no limp, considering the fact his legs were unusable a few minutes ago. His destination was the bullied pink haired girl.

Bendu patted Louise gently on the head. "It's alright, it takes a lot more than  _rocks_  to kill me."

"Am I really such a dangerous hazard to you?" Louise was honestly wondering if Kirche was speaking the truth about how destructive she was.

"No, in fact, your sole existence pushes mine forward," his face held no deceit, and it was the honest truth. "You're an interesting person Louise, and I'm confident that you will become a strong mage one day."

"Why do you think that?" Louise asked with a plethora of innocence behind her tone.

Bendu simply guided Louise's vision with his pointer finger, and her gaze was fixated on the mountain.

You did that," Bendu said with a chuckle.

All of the excitement and danger caused Louise's adrenaline to go through the roof. In doing so, she forget the minute detail, a very small one at that...That she blew up a mountain.

The mountain itself originally resembled a thick stalagmite, now it looks like colossal giant had decided to take a bite out of it.

"I...did that?" Louise held disbelief very closely.

"Yes, with a base level spell," Bendu was more surprised that the young girl didn't die with the amount of magicka she spent on that spell.

After she stared at the steep mound for a minute, her legs began to wobble, then she closed her eyes. All of which promptly lead to her going unconscious and plummeting face first onto the ground.

Bendu was first to act, checking Louise's vitals to see if she passed away to the afterlife. Thankfully, she was still breathing.

Bendu took a deep breath and turned towards the others. "She's alright, just unconscious from exhaustion."

He cradled the unconscious woman in his arms, carrying her back to Fort Sheo.

Before disappearing into the forest, he looked over his shoulder and said. "Keep training, and you might achieve her level one day."

All of the students glanced at one another, then began to stare at the mountain missing its peak

Only one among them spoke, and her eyes matched her fiery hair in both color and emotion. "I can become stronger-No, I will become stronger! I am more capable than that-that ZERO!"

Everyone took their focus away from the mound and they then set their eyes on Kirche, she clenched her wooden wand with such ferocity that the wood began to fracture.

"I will topple over both of them."

* * *

**One Week After Alexandre's Death**

**Headmaster's Office, Tristain Academy of Magic, Tristain**

"Life has been peaceful the last week, the birds are chirping, the flowers are blooming, the students have been gradually more happy, and best of all-"

"No explosions," Miss Longueville interrupted old man Osmond from finishing his sentence.

Sir Osmond stroked his white beard in contemplation. "Indeed, peaceful times."

The old man stamped some documents on his desk. The smell of old paper and tobacco stained furniture scenting the air.

The sun raised slowly on the horizon, dimly illuminating the window behind Osmond's desk.

"This harmony will only last for less than a month," the green haired secretary said off hand. While scribbling on miscellaneous parchments.

"You never know, her familiar may teach her a trick or two," Osmond began to pick his nose, giving it a couple pokes.

"Hmm, what do you mean?" Miss Longueville adjusted her spectacles, while prodding the old man.

It took a moment for old man Osmond to realize that Miss Longueville wasn't present during Bendu's display in his mastery of lightning.

Sir Osmond picked his words carefully. "Louise's familiar manipulated lightning, without even a wand, it was quite an amazing feat."

"E-elven Magic! How?" the secretary was awe struck, only elves were known to manipulate the forces of nature and make pacts with spirits. Contrary to nobles, who could only manipulate the five elements.

"I assure you that the familiar was not an elf," Osmond was certain. Colbert's research, and Bendu's lack of pointed ear indicated otherwise to Miss Longueville's deduction.

"I'm still unsure about your assessment," she broke away from the conversation and kept her nose in her paperwork.

**Donk-Donk**

Miss Longueville was quick to answer the door, less than a blink of the eye, and the secretary left her desk and opened the door.

"Hmm, Miss Longueville, you're looking as gorgeous as ever," a silk voice entered Osmond's office.

The man had a letter in hand with a royal wax seal. He could be presumed to be a royal messenger of sorts. The man's fashion choice included a long ruffle around his neck and a royal red cape. His face had a slim brown swirly mustache and somehow his eyebrow ends also twirled. His hair was short and brown, and his eyes were blue, which were also locked on the secretary's chest.

Osmond cleared his throat and grasped his pipe. "Royal Messenger Mott, I presume you have a letter for me?"

"What?-Oh, yes," Mott forced his eyes away from the secretary's breasts, and moved towards Osmond's desk.

He placed the letter on the desk, and spoke with an official tone. "I am, by royal request, required to inform you and your academy that Fouquet has chosen your institute as a target."

"Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt?" Osmond scoffed at the very idea. "There is no need for any worries, our vault is not only impenetrable, but is resistant towards all known magic."

"You sound very confident," Mott wore a smug grin. "Talking about other matters, will Siesta be able to smoothly transition to my estate tonight?"

"Oh-yes...about that," Osmond rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

**Donk-Donk**

Miss Longuville quickly answered the door, to which she saw an unfamiliar face.

"What is your business with Sir Osmond?" the secretary questioned the blue haired woman.

"I am a messenger of Lord Bendu Olo!" the energetic woman walked right past the secretary with a spring in her step.

The newest messenger wore robes that were sunset red, with the symbol of a simple sun in the middle of her breasts. She had long blue hair and eyes of the same color.

What made her truly different from Mott was the message she was carrying. While the man had a letter from the royal family, she had over five male servants carrying bags.

She skipped all the way towards Sir Osmond and said joyfully. "Bendu sends his regards for allowing Siesta to go on extended vacation."

Mott raised his swirly eyebrow, and his face scrunched up in mild irritation. "What is this about, Sir Osmond?"

The old man took a puff of his pipe and shrugged his shoulders.

"Are you selling this  _virgin_  servant as a prostitute?!" Mott was furious at the possibility. He spent  _so_ much time combing through all of the female servants to find the perfect one, only to have her stolen from him at the last moment.

Sylphid, ignoring the petty man's accusation, continued on with what she had to say. "As thanks, here is the promised amount of gold."

The servants brought the ten bags of gold ore and dropped them on the table.

Old man Osmond nearly had a heart attack from the sight before him. He snuck his hand into one of the bags and pulled out a pure gold ore.

"Ho-Ho! IS THIS THE EXACT AMOUNT?!" Osmond was shaken to the core that the newly summoned familiar attained so much gold in such little time.

"Yup, 25 pounds of gold," the blue haired messenger was glad to see an old man be so happy.

Mott was playing it cool, of course he didn't have such a vast amount of money to burn on a simple commoner. What he did have was the pride not to be out shone by another noble, especially one who had eyes on the same servant as he did.

He masked his surprise with a smile. "I can pay double that amount to have that servant return."

Osmond placed his feeble hand over his heart, and gripped the skin while shaking.

"Before you talk to that man about Siesta," Sylphid brushed the charlatan to the side. "Lord Olo has another offer to make you."

Sir Osmond's eyes began to quiver at the word 'offer'. "Oh-Erm, What would that be?"

"You may have noticed that two students have been absent for a week," to which, Osmond nodded his head.

Both Osmond and Longueville have been discussing the sudden absence, the straight 'A' student Tabitha, and the Germanian Kirche. If it lasted for anything longer than two weeks, then they would have been obligated to contact their families about the issue.

"Lord Olo has taken those two students under his wing, so they will be absent until Louise de Valliere returns from her suspension," Sylphid elaborated the situation to the academy headmaster.

"And...The offer?" as much as old man Osmond appreciates to know about his student's whereabouts, he was more curious about the offer.

Sylphid walked behind Sir Osmond, glancing outside of his window. She pointed downward, near the entrance of the academy.

"That is the offer."

Old man Osmond slowly raised from his chair and glanced outside. Mott who was also curious, walked towards the window to check out what the offer was.

All Osmond saw was two carriages parked in front of the academy entrance. With an unimpressed frown, Osmond shifted his eyes to the female messenger.

"Is the offer...a couple of carriages?" he truly expected more out of Bendu, especially if he wanted an academy to put two students on leave.

Mott scoffed at what he was looking at. "This is nothing but a cheap parlor trick to show how rich this noble is, but in actuality, all of his wealth was spent on the commoner."

Mott's theory was entertained in Osmond's mind, but deep down, the old man knew that familiar would surprise him somehow, someway.

"In fact, I could fill those carriages up to the brim with gold, if I wanted to," Mott bragged, but he knew that would be his entire life savings, he would never do such a thing.

Sylphid began to giggle a bit, eventually her laughter got on Mott's bad side. "What do you find to be so funny?"

"It's just that, there's no need to fill them, because they're already filled!" She exclaimed as she finally burst into a giggle fit.

Neither Osmond's nor Mott's could move, not with their metaphorical jaws resting on the ground.

It wasn't until Osmond regained his bearings that the conversation continued on. That was, of course, after almost a whole five minutes had passed.

"So-erm...The academy receives two carriages filled with gold ore, if we allow those two female students to remain on leave for under a month's time?" this question brought Sylphid back to her senses, where she nodded in response.

"Of course, consider it done!" the old man cheerfully complied with the request. He sat back down onto his chair, and smoked his pipe gleefully.

Mott, still experiencing his internal crisis, had an unquenchable desire to top this unknown noble with unlimited riches. He had the royal family of Tristain to back up his words, he was a true noble who only few could surpass.

"I'm glad that my work here is done, I'll make sure to bring back the good news to Lord Olo," Sylphid was happy that this was going smoothly, she left for the doors, until a voice chimed in.

"Wait!" Mott stretched out his hand to stop the messenger. "Bring me to your master."

Sylphid was against the idea that Bendu was her master, certainly he was her mentor, but Tabitha was her master. Nevertheless she went along with the man's label.

"What are you planning to do when I bring you to him?" Sylphid queried.

…

Mott thought for a moment, then came up with perfect solution to make her bring him along.

"I wish to discuss the matter about Siestas' contract with me."


End file.
